Arri- July 7, 2004

July 7, 2004
Dear Keish,

After Banquo and Mendel departed, I left the tree. I was exhausted and filthy. I knew it was the dirt in my lungs that made me cough, but I still thought I would feel better if I could bathe. I climbed up on Glory and let her wander aimlessly. I knew there was a river around, but I couldn’t remember what direction, and I figured Glory would go to water eventually. She did, after another hour. The water was icy cold, but after two days of hot magical fire, it felt good to shiver. I tried washing out my clothes too, but they are completely ruined, torn where they aren’t stained. It doesn’t really matter.
It did feel much better to be clean again, but I was still exhausted. I would have slept, but every few minutes a spasm of coughs shook me awake. My whole body ached and my throat felt parched no matter how much water I drank. I curled up miserably under a bush and tried to rest.
I must have dozed off a bit because a nearby movement woke me. I jumped slightly and peered out into twilight. Not far away a fairy was kneeling on the ground peering intently into my face. His face was thin and deeply wrinkled with eyes overly large for his head. He looked older than Brynn, older than anyone I’ve ever seen.
“Fairy tells me you are a healer,” he said, and somehow I knew that he meant the boy fairy.
I didn’t say anything.
“I am a healer too,” he informed me, “There are many fairies and beasts with smoke in their lungs from the fire. I want you to help me remove it.”
“I’ve never removed smoke from lungs before,” I said warily, remembering Banquo’s warning.
“You have removed iron from a fairy’s body. You can remove smoke.” The fairy spoke in complete confidence, “First you must remove the smoke and natron from your own body, so that you can touch the fairies. The fairies do not have natron in their bodies, because they stayed away from the alchemy.  They only have smoke from the burning tree. I have been helping them, but I am the fairies’ only healer.”
I was silent. I couldn’t lie to him, but I didn’t want to do what he asked. The fairy folded his arms and watched me.
“Why are you silent?” he asked finally.
I kept my head down.
“Brio child,” he voice softened and I looked up. He peered at me intently.
“I’m worried about my brother,” I said finally, looking away.
The fairy did not answer this. I wondered if he understood me.
“Do you remember when you were taken by the fairies? Did you like it? Did your family like it?” I asked him.
The fairy frowned. What he said next came out slowly, as if the words were difficult to pronounce.
“I am not your enemy, Arrietta Fae Etautca of Brio. I am not the enemy of Liop Quin Etautca either.” His wings fluttered with a sound like tearing paper.
I was surprised. I wanted to know more about him. Who was he? Did he know who he was? I could not deceive the fairies; could they deceive me? I wasn’t sure, but I liked this ancient fairy.
“Try to heal yourself,” he encouraged.
I closed my eyes and turned my sight inward, searching my skin and lungs for contaminants. It felt strange; every sensation of my body sharpened. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins and the pressure of each twig from the bushes touching me. Every nerve felt like the point of a pin. I tried to sort it all out as I had with the boy fairy, to locate the particles that didn’t belong. Soon I could see the natron and the burnt ashes of the tree, but I could not move them. Another fit of coughing shook me. I opened my eyes.
“Keep trying,” said fairy simply, “I will come back.” And he flew away.
I tried. I tried for most of the night to move particles from my body. I eventually forced myself to cough up most of the dirt in my lungs, but I could not move anything magically. There was still natron in my blood and skin. I could not heal myself. I fell asleep toward morning, full of relief to be finished coughing.
It was strange to waken in broad daylight with the sun high in the sky. The ward you placed on me was gone, but that wasn’t what woke me. Something had poked me and I looked around groggily. The healer fairy was back. He was poking me softly with a long stem of grass.
“You are not healed yet,” he informed me.
“I tried,” I said, sitting up slowly and putting my head in my hands, “my mother couldn’t heal herself either.”
The fairy said nothing. He wound the blade of grass around his wrist, frowning.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I will have to finish myself,” he concluded. He turned away and I noticed his movements were slow and heavy. His wings looked brittle, his whole body fragile. I wanted to help him. He made me unspeakably sad.
After the fairy left, I fell asleep again, but not for long. When I woke up it was late afternoon. I stood slowly, stiff and sore from lying on the ground. Glory was grazing nearby. I took a long drink from the river and filled my pouch. My stomach had reached that point of hunger where it no longer bothered me, as if hunger was my natural state of being. I didn’t really care about food, but I thought that if I found some along the way, I would stop and gather it. I climbed on Glory’s back and turned her along the river, which I knew would cross into the city.
We walked for a couple of hours. I could see a slight haze in the bright sky, the last wisps of smoke carried by the wind. Glory snorted a bit and I put my hands to her rib cage. She had inhaled some smoke, but since she had been on the opposite side of the city from the flames, her breathing was not bad. Remembering again Banquo’s warning, I decided to leave her alone. I wondered if the healer fairy would inform the queen of our conversation and what she would make of it.
I could tell when we reached the edge of the city, because our path was immediately barred by a pair of giant ants. They clicked angrily waving their two front legs and antennae at us. Glory whinnied nervously and backed away from them. I didn’t blame her. We turned back into the forest and hid behind the trunk of the nearest tree. We needed a plan. I slid off Glory’s back and sat back against the trunk of the tree. Together we watched the golden glow of sunset in the trees. I cast a light spell on a nearby flower and wrote this letter with its yellow shimmer. The glow of the flower is fading now and I am sleepy. There are three more days until Liop’s birthday and I have no idea what to do except to wait. I can’t even tell if Imato’s ward is holding.

July 8th

More waiting. I can’t even think of anything to write. I tried sneaking into the city several times. I tried disguising myself. I tried racing through on Glory in a full gallop. Eventually I had nearly a dozen ants blocking my path, so I must have caused some trouble, but I never came close to getting in. Now the sun is setting and my head hurts. I don’t know anything at all. I suppose if Liop were changed, they would tell me, wouldn’t they?

July 11th

On July 9th, I was sitting behind a tree watching Glory graze on oversized blades of grass one at a time and wondering how much longer I would have to wait and what the ants would do if I attacked them outright, and what spells did I know that might be good for attacking something? I was wishing I had Father’s sword again and wondering what I would do with it if I had it…
When I was jerked back into reality by the familiar sound of laughter and the boy fairy darting into my face. I jumped and hit my head against the tree.
“I scared you!” the boy crowed turning upside down and shaking with uncontrolled laughter.
“Can you tell me about Liop?” I demanded. This was the only thing the boy could say that might interest me.
“The fairies called me ‘too much trouble’ and shut me out,” laughed the fairy, “but I think the boy is ‘too much trouble’ too. They will be sorry if they change him.”
He’d told me what I needed to know and I sank back against the tree in relief. The boy fairy capered about, turning somersaults in the air. I wondered why he came looking for me.
“Why are you here, fairy?” I asked.
“The old healer sent me to find you,” the fairy sang, “He says you are to come and talk to the queen.”

In the past couple of days I had learned the boundary of the fairy city very well. The giant ants never crossed outside of it, and they made sure I never crossed to the inside. Now, following the boy fairy, I crossed the invisible line without seeing a single ant. The city still looked like the surrounding garden/forest, but unlike my first visit, I occasionally noticed a fairy darting across our path. One paused to watch our progress, frowning. The boy fairy ignored him, darting ahead and then back with limitless energy, urging me to hurry. I rode Glory, feeling unwilling to let her out of my sight more than necessary. When we reached the palace grounds, I tied her just inside the gate.
We did not enter through the main entrance or the servants’ door that Mendel and I had found. Instead we went around to yet another entrance, more formal than a servants’, but not elaborate either. It opened on what looked like a waiting room with an unoccupied reception desk and two rows of elegant bamboo chairs. The boy fairy passed right through this room and into a hallway. He passed the first three doors and threw the fourth open. I hurried to catch up.
“That is not correct,” the firm voice of the healer fairy reached me from in the room, “you must ring the bell and be admitted.”
The boy fairy laughed outright. A burst of magic, like a bright explosion threw him out of the room and into the hallway with the door slamming shut. The boy fairy shook himself. A bell rang somewhere and the door opened again.
“Do you want to be confined again?” asked the healer. I had stopped when the explosion occurred and now I approached cautiously and peered into the doorway.
The boy fairy was shaking his head as if trying to clear it. The healer was seated cross-legged on a table. He looked as tired and frail as I remembered from two days ago. His eyes were a very dark green and right now they flashed with annoyance. He turned to me and I half expected to be flung across the hall like the boy fairy. But his expression softened.
“Hello,” he said simply. His wings fluttered as he slid from the table and stood on the ground. I realized that he was the only fairy I had seen truly standing on the ground. He stepped toward me and held out his hand. I just stood there, not knowing what he wanted. His hand dropped back to his side.
“Hi,” I said awkwardly, searching for something friendly to say, “Are you finished healing the fairies?”
“No,” he replied sadly, “I have been trying. I’ve healed a lot of them.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. I looked around the room. The white walls looked soft and papery. The room contained no sharp corners or perfectly flat surfaces. It was bright despite the lack of windows, and warm. One wall contained a set of shelves with baskets of herbs and other objects.
“Banquo said everyone will recover from the smoke,” I added, wanting to cheer him up, “it will just take a few weeks.”
“That is true,” the old fairy nodded, “but I am a healer.”
I wasn’t sure what more I could say. I looked over to the boy fairy, shuffling restlessly in the doorway like any small boy that is trying to hold still.
“That fairy,” the old healer waved dismissively in the boy fairy’s direction, “is my apprentice.”
“Oh,” I said.
Silence crept up around us. The healer was glaring at the boy who frowned resentfully back. It was awkward and I wanted to end it but didn’t know how. Finally, the old fairy broke away.
“Come with me,” he said, walking out of the room. My shoes made soft pats on the floor as we walked, but the old fairy moved soundlessly. He wings beat the air and lightened his steps. The boy fairy flew, ahead, around, above.  It wasn’t long before I recognized where we were going. We were in the same part of the palace where Mendel and I found Liop. In a few minutes we were standing before the same door with its black doorknob. The boy fairy stopped a good distance down the hall from it.
“Open it,” said the healer.
Hesitantly, I threw a bit of magic against the door. Layers of complex wards flickered around it.
“You need to get away first,” I told the fairies, “Liop used alchemy in one these wards.”
“That ward is still broken,” the old fairy informed me, “there will be no explosion.”
I studied the door, searching for Liop’s ward among the others. The old fairy was right. I could not find it. Tentatively, I reached out and took the doorknob. It turned easily and the door swung open.
“Arri!” cried Liop, darting forward.
He looked thin and dark circles ringed his eyes. A racking cough shook him as he threw his arms around me. His touch sent shivers of magic through me. Liop lived in a cloud of quivering fairy magic and I could not stand his touch for more than a minute before I had to break away. I saw that Imato’s ward was intact.
“Are you alright?” I asked anxiously.
“Yes,” said Liop. We sat down together on the floor. “They’re exerting themselves to turn me into a fairy, but they can’t break Imato’s ward.” He smiled.
The old fairy flew into the room and hovered cautiously above us.
“This room is dangerous for the fairies,” he commented, “if the boy changes here, it will kill him. Come, Arrietta of Brio, it is time to see the queen.”
I followed the old fairy back down the hall. The boy fairy tried to follow but was immediately ordered back to Liop’s door.
“The fairies are already very mad,” the old healer told him in annoyance, “you cannot make them madder.” I suppose he knew the young fairy well.
“Why does the queen want to see me?” I asked.
“She doesn’t,” the healer frowned at me, “I want her to see you.” He was walking on the floor again.
“Why?” I asked.
“I want you to talk her out of taking your brother,” the old fairy looked down at me as he walked, his large eyes full of sorrow, “this Brio child can only harm the fairies. His head is full of alchemy and he is reckless, as reckless as my useless apprentice. His magic will be dangerous to our way of life.”
I didn’t say anything but I felt a surge of hope for Liop.
“The queen is proud,” the healer continued, “It is the right of the fairies to take a child from the Brio family. Your mother’s generation has thwarted us well.”
“But what can I say to the queen?” I asked, feeling helpless.
The fairy sighed. “I do not know,” he murmured.
A few minutes later we approached a pair of double doors. On the other side, I heard a burst of coughing.
“Is the queen sick?” I asked.
“She will only let me heal her last,” the healer said in a tone of respect.

This time I did not find the fairy queen in her throne room. The room the healer led me to was elegant and wonderful, however informal. It was filled with fresh flowers and beautiful fountains. The queen lay on a red sofa. She was beautiful, even in illness, her wings folded gracefully behind her. As we approached, she sat up.
“Why have you brought her?” she demanded angrily. The healer only bowed and said nothing. I said nothing too. I was overpowered as I had been the first time.
The fairy queen regarded us through narrow eyes.
“I told you that unless you removed the ward on the child, you would never see him again,” she reminded me.
“His magic is dangerous to the fairies,” I repeated the healer’s words, “even if I remove the ward, which I can’t, the alchemy inside him will thwart your spell!” I ended in a kind of desperate shout.
“It will not be enough,” the queen replied hotly, “the ward will fail and we will take him. If the natron hinders the spell, he may lose all his magic.”
“He’s only a little boy,” I cried, “please don’t let him get hurt.”
“I do not wish him to be hurt,” the queen’s words cut through the air urgently, “You must remove the alchemy and the ward from him and not let him do anymore. Then his transformation will be simple and painless. You must explain that alchemy is forbidden to him. If he tries to use alchemy as a fairy, it will kill him.”
“I can’t—he’s been watching his uncle in the laboratory since before he started school even. It means as much to him as magic. I might as well ask him to stop eating,” I searched for a better comparison, “or ask a fairy to stop using her wings.”
The queen was silent. Her butterfly wings quivered slightly and she plucked a yellow flower from the nearest bush.
“It is not in my control,” the queen declared, “I cannot stop the spell to transform him, even if I wished it. The ward must last till sunset tomorrow, but it will fail tomorrow morning. The child will transform or he will lose all magic.” She leaned back and regarded me with her arms folded.
“If we leave the land of the fairies?” I asked softly.
“I will have my rights!” said the queen, “you will not leave before it is time.”
I looked back at the healer. His expression was troubled. What did he expect me to say to her? How could I convince her to let us go? I turned back to the queen.
“I have rights too,” I told her, “Liop is my younger brother and it is my duty to help him.”
The queen leaned forward and glared at me.
“If the ward lasts till sunset tomorrow, I will release you,” she replied. Then, addressing the healer, “Take her to the child. She may leave but not return. The child may not leave before his time. Go now.” She turned away from us and the healer motioned me to follow him back into the hallway. As the doors closed behind us I heard the sound of coughing.
“I didn’t do much good,” I said, scuffing my feet along the woven green rug.
“She has given me permission to help you,” he murmured, “that is enough.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, startled.
“She did not order you out of the palace or forbid you to help the child. And more importantly, she did not forbid me to help you.” He looked down at me, a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes. “She knows that I brought you into the palace. She knows I intend to help you, but she has not forbidden it.”
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“I am very old,” he responded, “I am sure.”
“How can you help?” I asked.
“I have watched the child since I came here. He is very creative. Go back to him and send me the fairy.” (An image of the boy fairy flashed unbidden to my mind.) “Do not ask what I intend to do or hint to the fairy what I want. We must be careful with this spell. It is dangerous.”
The old fairy fluttered slowly into the air and darted away from me before I could react.

I found my way back to Liop’s room and told the boy fairy to find the healer. I worried I might have to coax him to obey me, but he darted away quickly at my suggestion. I opened the door and went to Liop. He was lying on a pile of blankets, his eyes heavy. I curled up near him and together we waited. The magic in the room was growing. It pulsed against my skin. Liop whimpered in his sleep.
I think I dozed and awakened at least a dozen times before the boy fairy returned. Though Liop’s room contained no windows, a faint glow filled the room as morning approached, seeping in through the white papery walls. I was still half asleep when the boy fairy burst into the room carrying a large, heavy green basket. He dropped it at my feet and darted back out without a word. Puzzling over the silence, unusual for the boy, I looked into the basket. Inside was a large jar of silvery white powder, a round flat piece of clear glass, and a tightly rolled scroll.
“What is it?” asked Liop sleepily. He had coughed periodically through the night, but I hadn’t dared attempt to heal him. He crawled over to sit next to me.
“Some sort of powder,” I said needlessly, as Liop peered into the basket, “Iridium maybe?” But it was such a large amount that iridium seemed unlikely. Even Uncle Winthrop rarely has more than a cupful on hand. It’s too expensive. Liop reached for the jar, but I stopped him. Instead I unrolled the scroll. It was a spell, without salutation or explanation, just the needed ingredients (piece of glass, iridium), a line of instructions, and the words of the spell. What the spell did, I couldn’t tell.
“Let’s try it,” said Liop, coughing lightly.
I didn’t like the idea of trying a spell when I didn’t know it’s purpose, but what choice did I have? It was simple enough. I opened the jar of what I now knew was iridium and, following the instruction, sprinkled a slight amount across the surface of the glass.
“Beautiful places, lasting places.”
The edge of the glass grew warm in my hand and the dusting of iridium seemed to dissolve into the surface. Then it cooled.
“Nothing happened,” commented Liop in confused disappointment.
Curious, I held the glass up to my face and looked through it.
“Oh,” I exclaimed in surprise. Through the glass, as though through a window, was the old cape house where we lived in Dock-on-Green during the years that father’s men co-trained with the Adya troops. It was exactly as I best remembered it, perfect in spring flowers with the ocean stretched out behind.
“What do you see?” demanded Liop. I told him.
“Show me,” he said. Reluctantly, I handed over the glass and he peered into it. “I don’t see a cape house,” he said, half-disappointed, “I see Uncle W.’s cottage in Odsreq.”
“Really?” I leaned over his shoulder and together we peered into the glass. However we tried, though, I only saw Dock-on-Green and Liop only saw Odsreq. For several minutes we watched, enchanted by our windows on perfection. Around us the morning grew brighter.
“Why did the healer fairy give us this spell?” asked Liop finally.
I had no idea. I pulled my eyes away from the glass and back to the scroll, turning it around and over.
“Do you know a spell to reveal hidden writing?” asked Liop.
I shook my head and a new worry formed. What if the old healer put a hidden message on the paper, expecting us to find it?
“It’s an awful lot of iridium,” Liop commented, “the spell only called for a pinch.”
It was a lot of iridium, but perhaps iridium was more common in the land of the fairies than in Elcaro. I turned the jar around in my hand, studying it, fascinated by the silver sheen reflected off the white powder when the light hit it at certain angles. Then I turned my attention to the basket. It was made from grapevines and very sturdy. Still, I couldn’t find anything significant in either object.
“Maybe we can take it back and give it to Uncle W. for his alchemy,” said Liop.
Alchemy! The whole concept struck me suddenly. The fairies could not handle alchemy supplies, but they could handle magic supplies. Sometimes magic and alchemy used the same ingredients. Intent was important in deciding whether an ingredient was dangerous to touch. The healer fairy couldn’t send me alchemy supplies, but he could send magic supplies. By sending me a spell, and me using the spell, the healer had given me an alchemy ingredient without causing danger to himself. If he didn’t tell the boy fairy what he was doing, and used the boy purely as a messenger, he made the transfer doubly safe. The boy fairy probably had no idea that iridium could be used in alchemy.
“Liop, what alchemy formulas do you know that use iridium?” I asked.
“Uncle W. uses it in restoratives. And blacksmiths use it in the tips of fountain pens,” said Liop after some thought, “Uncle W. won’t let me touch it, because the powder catches fire easily.”
That was a scary thought. We’d already burned down a tree. I didn’t want to burn down the palace.
“Why is it used on the tips of pens?” I asked Liop.
“I guess because it’s adamantine,” Liop told me.
“So anything it was mixed with would be just as durable?” I asked.
“I could add it to Imato’s ward!” Liop shouted suddenly, “like I did with the ward in his bedroom and the one in this room!” He leaped to his feet and immediately began to cough.
I frowned. “What you did in Imato’s room was tangled and chaotic,” I pointed out, “No one can get in the door.”
Liop continued to cough for a couple minutes.
“I used baking soda and charcoal in that ward,” he said enthusiastically, “it was supposed to mark anyone who tried to break in so they’d be easy to track later.”
“That’s not what it did,” I informed him.
“I know. I was going to clean it up, but I ran out of time,” Liop coughed a bit more. Then he shivered. “I can feel the fairies’ magic again,” he told me. He started to rise and immediately sat down again. I felt a shiver of panic.
“What about the iron you used in the ward on this room?” I asked looking around and remember the explosion, “was that the same process?”
“Well,” said Liop reluctantly, “I mixed hair into that formula, so it could only be triggered by a relative. But I don’t want to make that ward with iridium. Iron isn’t normally combustible.”
And iridium is, I added mentally. We sat for several more minutes. Liop shifted restlessly, jumping up one minute to pace the floor, then dropping to his knees to cough. His thin frame shook and shivered, sometimes from coughing and sometimes from another source. I sent out a spell to test the strength of Imato’s ward and it flickered under my spell. Still it held. I remembered the fairy queen’s prediction that Imato’s ward would fail in the morning. It was still early morning.
It isn’t often that Liop is afraid, but I could see fear in him now. He didn’t want to work the ward. Both of his previous attempts to manipulate wards had not worked exactly the way he wanted them to, and iridium was a much more dangerous substance to work with. The more I thought about it the more torn I became.
“Maybe,” I whispered, “the fairies have won. I can remove the natron from your body and when Imato’s ward fails, you will become a fairy. You just have to stay away from alchemy. Maybe you won’t lose your memories.”
Liop knelt down next to me. He rocked back and forth with his eyes shut. In the corners of my vision I could see a kind of magical aura around him. I reached out to put my arm around his shoulder and received a jolt of powerful magic. It passed over me like a bucket of icy water. I knew in that moment that I could no longer touch him. I could not remove the natron and Imato’s ward was failing.
“I don’t want to be a fairy anymore,” Liop told me, “I want to be an alchemist like Uncle Winthrop.”
It was hard to think through my growing panic. I wasn’t sure that it was just Liop’s magic that would be lost when Imato’s ward failed. It seemed possible that Liop would die. My thoughts moved to the old healer and the careful effort he had made to give us iridium. He must have known it would help. I picked up the basket and turned it around. What we needed was a practice spell. I could break through simple wards, but I only knew the theory behind creating them. Cautiously, I recited a simple spell to place a ward around the basket. My first attempt failed, but I attracted Liop’s attention and he offered a correction. It took a few more tries, but finally I placed a simple, weak ward around the basket.
“Okay, Liop,” I said, “how do you add an alchemy formula to it? Show me.”
“It might explode,” Liop said.
“The spell is too weak to explode,” I countered.
Liop took a pinch of iridium, closed his eyes, and sprinkled it over the basket. I tried to watch, but as far as I could tell he only touched my spell with his magic without altering it. The iridium however crackled as it passed through the ward. It was very strange. I didn’t have the slightest idea what Liop had done. He had not cast a spell.
I reached out tentatively to touch the basket, but my hand stopped two inches away. I pressed and a flash of energy shot through me. For an instant I felt a weak, formless magic, but then my body rejected it and it dissipated into the room.
“Can you do that to Imato’s ward?” I asked.
Liop nodded, but he didn’t act. I didn’t say anything. I just watched him. Imato’s ward flickered and the magic cloud thickened in response. We were running out of time. Liop moved through the room like a swimmer in slow motion. He could not sit still, but each flex of muscle was heavy and full of effort.
“Liop,” I said, “you have to add the iridium to Imato’s ward. You have to do it now.”
Liop looked at me. His eyes were large and frightened and very young.
I picked up the jar of iridium and held it out to him. Slowly Liop reached in to take a pinch. He pushed out a small bit of his own magic and touched it to Imato’s ward. Then he sprinkled the iridium on his head. Again I saw no spell, but the ward reaction was instantaneous. Liop’s whole body flashed with blinding white light. I squeezed my eyes shut against it. When I opened them again, Liop was on his knees with his head down.
“Liop?” I asked.
The blonde head shot up with amazing rapidity and he looked at me. It seemed like there was a piece of glass between us. Liop shook his head in a dazed manner and stood back up. The sluggish effort was gone. He looked tired, but unhindered. I wanted to touch him, but memories of the basket made me wary. Instead I sent out the spell to test Imato’s ward. It was like touching cold metal.
“Did it work?” I asked needlessly for I could see a bubble of clear air around him. As he moved the fairy magic retreated from him and dissipated into nothing. Liop waved his arms about and a grin spread across his face.
“It worked, Arri!” he said enthusiastically, “It worked!”

At sunset Imato’s ward fell away and I could almost hear Imato’s sigh of sudden relief and release at its end. No traces of the fairies’ magic remained and Liop was left a simple but exhausted little boy. True to her word, the fairy queen turned us out of the palace without ceremony. I lifted the sleepy Liop up onto Glory’s back and then climbed on in front of him. He put his small arms around my waist and leaned against my back. Together we rode through the fairy city. The boy fairy darted around us and the old healer led the way, flying just above the ground.
Our path was very clear for it was lined with fairies, more than I had ever seen, even at the height of the excitement about the fire. They hovered among the trees and stared at us in simple fascination, males and females, all ages and races, colorful and beautiful beyond description.
“Were they all abducted as children?” I asked the old healer.
“No,” he said simply, but would not explain further. I could not tell if the other fairies were happy, sad, or angry, or even if they understood what had happened. The boy fairy was ecstatic, laughing and turning summersaults. The old healer was solemn, but he smiled when we reached the edge of the city.
“Take care of yourself, Arri of Brio,” he told me, “it has been foreseen that we will meet again.” He bowed slightly and darted away before I could respond.
The boy fairy followed us further, until we were ready to jump out of the land of fairies. I took hold of the cords of magic in the reigns of Glory’s golden bridle and pronounced the spell to return to earth. Glory began to gallop. It was not at all like flying in on Banquo had been. My vision blacked out and I kept one hand tight on the reigns while the other held Liop’s hand. We hit the ground like a brick wall. Glory whinnied and sank to her knees, throwing us off. I hit my head and lost consciousness.
When I opened my eyes, Mendel was kneeling over me, smiling.
“It’s easier on a lion,” he said, “How do you feel?”
“Where’s Liop?” I asked. I tried raising my head to look, but pain shot through it.
“He’s fine,” said Mendel, “but I’m going to have to carry him. I don’t think Glory should carry anyone for a couple hours—she’s fine too, just disoriented like you,” he added.
“Where are we?” was my next question, too disoriented to think clearly.
“Where I said you’d land,” Mendel grinned, “in the fairy ring in the woods behind Westridge Manor.” He looked around, “it’s the place where I first met Fairy.”
I looked around too, but I didn’t see much. It was very dark.
“Do you think you can stand?” asked Mendel, offering his hand. I took it and he helped me to rise.
“It’s not far to the house,” said Mendel, “let me get Liop and you keep one hand on my arm. Glory will follow.”
I don’t remember much about how we got to the manor, but we got there. I have a vague impression of Mendel ordering care for Glory and then helping me lie down on a bed next to Liop. His last words were: “I’ll send Mother’s maid with fresh clothes for you. I want to check Glory one more time.” Then Liop said, “I’m edacious.” But I was too tired to ask what that meant.

It’s late morning now and I’m wide awake. I can hear people moving along the hallway, but I hope they don’t knock on the door yet. I’m in a guest room with a big, fancy bed. Liop is curled up at one end in a big, clean white nightshirt that nearly drowns him. My night gown is also rather large, but the blue fabric is soft and silky. It feels wonderful after so many nights sleeping in a dress. I’ve been working on this letter since it was light enough to see. I want to send it as quickly as possible, but I may wait till this afternoon. I want to talk to Mendel and hear what news I can before I finish. I’ll also direct a letter to Uncle W. and Nysa in Rousha.

Later

I’m glad I waited, because Hermes arrived a few minutes ago with your letter. I’m glad that you already know that Liop is safe. I guess I don’t need to send the extra letter to Uncle W. and Nysa anymore, since they can read this one. Please give them my love and tell them I’m sorry for running off without leaving any kind of note. I really am very sorry. I’m glad they came to you though. Most of the time it wasn’t at all possible for me to get a letter to them. The fairies only let me send the one to you because they needed your help.
What you and Imato did to keep the ward on Liop is amazing! It is the only reason he escaped.
And I’m so glad that you found a spell to stop this from happening to the next generation. You’re right, Keish: the Brios are through with losing children. Whatever I need to do to help, I will do.

Keish, we all did it! Liop is safe!

Give my love to everyone,

Arri

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