Have You Seen These Humans?
Alison
Alison led the group from the treehouse back to the clearing. The bonfire was reduced to embers, and the great banquet table was mostly empty even though the sun had nearly made it overhead.
They bid goodbye to the fairies, thanking them for their “lessons” and their lodgings. Then they made their way back across the heath, through the cave, down the path, and onto the road to Fossholm.
By the time they reached the town, it was midday. With growling stomachs, they approached the inn for a bite to eat before continuing on to Weldan House, where Idris and Rinka were hoping to retain accommodations, Keir was hoping (and dreading) to have the opportunity to speak with his father, and Alison was hoping to meet with the korrigans and enlist their help.
The town had been amazingly spruced up in just the single day they had been gone. The thatching on the roofs had been repaired, the signs had been repainted, red buntings had been hung across the lane to honor the king’s royal colors, window boxes had been planted with cheery summer flowers, and the cobblestones had been swept and washed until they gleamed under the sun like pebbles in a stream.
A familiar dwarf with grey hair was barreling down the street towards them, fliers in hand.
“Hello, Gwenla!” said Alison, waving to her. “What do you have there? Can we help?”
Gwenla shrieked and broke into a run, sending the fliers tumbling into the air in her wake.
“My Gods! Alison, you’re alive! And Keir. You’re alive. You’re alive!”
She hugged them both fiercely. As she let go of Alison, Alison reached to the ground and retrieved one of the fliers she had been carrying.
MISSING:
Alison Lennox Keir Ainsley
Please send a pigeon to Gwenla, Number Three Orchard Lane, Herot’s Hollow, with any information.
Below their names was the portrait Weyland had made of the pair of them a few months earlier. The fliers had been printed recently—they were still warm from the press.
“Gwenla, what is this?” she asked.
And then she realized.
“How long have we been gone?”
“Eight days!” said Gwenla. “At first, I thought you might be held up in Fossholm, or that you’d gone to visit Lord Ainsley at Weldan House. But then we heard the news of the pirate attack on the ferry, and I worried you’d gone after your friend—hello, you must be Rinka.” Gwenla had noticed Rinka and Idris for the first time. She pulled Rinka into a hug. “Weyland told me not to worry. He said you knew how to take care of yourselves and that you were probably just delayed dealing with the constables in Sudport. But when a week had passed and we still hadn’t heard anything, he agreed to help me with the fliers. Oh, he’ll be so happy to hear that you’re safe!”
“I’m so sorry to have worried you both. We’ve only been gone a day from our perspective.”
Alison recapped their recent adventures, and Gwenla nodded along, but the part she was most curious about was not the part Alison expected. “Idris? Why, you’re not the wee Prince Idris, are you?”
“I’m not exactly ‘wee’ anymore, but yes. I am he.”
Gwenla bowed. “Apologies, your highness. I thought the royal entourage wasn’t arriving until tomorrow.”
“I suppose they might be,” said Idris. “I wouldn’t know. I traveled on my own.”
“On your own? Well, aren’t you brave? I’ve seen you once before, when you were just a wee lad. My love Lady Willana, Gods rest her soul, she’d lived in the city, and we went to visit some of her friends there. And they were having an event at the castle for your fifth birthday, a great big festival on the castle grounds. And oh, you were just such a precious little thing. Your little red cheeks and your cute little dimples—oh! And your dragon form—so tiny and red. And when you took to the sky, Lady Willana was so worried for you. But you flew so well! You landed right on top of the highest tower, and you didn’t want to come down. Gods, that must have been twenty-five years ago.”
“A bit more, actually,” said Idris. He smiled politely, but Alison, who had been reminded of the curse on him by Rinka, could see the strain.
“Come on into the inn,” said Gwenla. “Sit down. I’m sure Ms. Morrison—she’s the innkeep here—will be pleased as punch to know you’re here. I’ll get the drinks, and then you lot need to fill me in on this scheme of yours.”
Alison caught Gwenla up on the plan to pass Rinka off as a noble, which Gwenla thought was wise on account of the reputations of Keir and Idris. “Not that you aren’t both quite charming gentlemen, but you tend to be on the fringes a bit, don’t you? We need someone who will really get in the mix if we’re going to convince these folks to save our town—and Rinka, you seem like just the type,” said Gwenla, and Alison agreed. Rinka had a natural friendliness and ease to her that few were blessed with. It had come as no surprise to Alison to learn that Rinka had made a friend during her voyage, and Alison would not be surprised if Rinka made it to the end of the summer with a dozen new friends, regardless of whether or not they were successful in their town-saving efforts.
Gwenla filled them in as well on the upcoming events. “The royal arrival is tomorrow; we’ll all be here to see them fly in, of course. Then the Midsummer Festival is the next day, and that’s where they’ll be having the dam demonstration. It would be good if something were to go wrong during the demonstration, but of course we’ll need to be careful so that no one gets hurt. If you don’t mind, I’d love it if you’d ask the korrigans if they have any ideas.”
“I can do that,” said Alison. “I’m sure they won’t be pleased to see their streams dammed up. And if they can’t or won’t help, there’s always magic.”
“Not my magic, I’m afraid,” said Idris. “My father knows what that looks like. He’ll probably suspect just about any kind of magical interference was me.”
Alison guessed that Idris had probably ruined more than one occasion that way before from the way he spoke of it.
“You’ll need a good alibi then,” said Rinka.
“And miss all of the fun?” said Idris.
Gwenla smiled at him. “I’m sure we can find something important for you to do. It’s so good of you to want to help us.”
Alison suspected Idris’s help was born less from altruism and more from a desire to make Rinka happy, but she kept her suspicions to herself.
They said their goodbyes to Gwenla, who promised to bring the good news of their reappearance to Weyland since they wouldn’t be back in Herot’s Hollow until the evening. Then they set out on the path to Weldan House.
Alison peeked back to watch Idris and Rinka joking and chatting as Keir led them through Fossholm. In truth, she’d been surprised to hear of their idea of pretending to court. She had suspected the feeling between them was genuine, at least on Rinka’s side of things, and she worried that her friend was in danger of having her heart broken.
But Rinka seemed in high spirits, and Alison wasn’t one to interfere without good cause. Still, she resolved to keep an eye on the situation and to be prepared with a hot cup of tea and a clean handkerchief should things change.
They reached the bridge near the falls, and Alison again felt the pull of the path near the water. “I think I’ll turn off here,” she said. “I’ll follow the path up from the falls to see if there are any signs of activity.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay on the side of the river closer to Weldan? It’s easier going on the west bank,” said Keir.
“All the more reason to avoid it,” said Alison. “The korrigans are seldom seen, probably because they stick to places that are more difficult to tread.”
Keir looked from Alison to Idris. Idris seemed to understand his hesitation. “Go with her,” said Idris. “I know how to handle showing up at a manor house unannounced. I’ll do my best not to give your father’s butler a heart attack.”
“Mr. McKnight has little patience for nonsense,” warned Keir. “Although he’s far too respectable to let someone like you know it. I’ll meet you up there soon.”
“Good luck, Rinka,” said Alison as they departed. “If the ruse doesn’t work out, you can always stay with me for the summer.” She gave her friend a meaningful look with a glance at Idris to say, if it doesn’t work out for any reason.
Rinka nodded that she understood.
Alison led Keir across the bridge as Rinka and Idris continued down the tree-lined path to Weldan House. The water at the bottom of the falls was so lovely and blue on that cloudless day that it was almost possible to forget the tragedy that had taken place there.
Almost, but not entirely. Alison shivered as she remembered the feeling of the icy cold water on her skin. She brushed the sensation aside, focusing on the warmth she felt when looking at the riverbank.
On the other side of the bridge, the road back to Herot’s Hollow curved up into the woods, but there was a footpath off to the left that led down to the water. Alison was grateful for her riding boots, which allowed her to take the steep descent with minimal hassle. Keir followed closely behind her, offering his hand to help her balance as she clambered over rocks to reach the smoother path she’d seen from the bridge.
There was something to this path that spoke to her in the same way the path into the fairy woods had, and that gave her pause. “I really hope this doesn’t lead to more fairies,” she said. “As fun as they were, I don’t really want any more of their lessons at the moment.”
“Do you want to turn back? You can come with me to the house. I’m sure we can find another way that doesn’t involve the korrigans.”
“No,” said Alison. “I’d like to see Nolwynn again.” And so she pressed on.
The path wasn’t much like the fairy path had been. It was steep, climbing over rock and through dense woods to the higher ground above the falls. But the warm feeling was there, and Alison realized what she was feeling was magic.
At last, the path stopped climbing. It crossed two tiny streams, which they carefully navigated by crossing steppingstones, and when it turned to follow a larger brook, Alison heard a splash of something hitting the water.
Alison stopped, holding her hand up to signal Keir to do the same. “Did you hear that?” she whispered.
She saw movement on the opposite bank of the brook.
“Hello?” she called. “I’m here to see Nolwynn. Do you know her?”
There were several more splashes from just around the bend, and then large streaks of silver and gold came into view as they swam through the water and emerged on the bank next to Alison and Keir.
There were five of them, all just below waist-height, all with long hair of silver or gold and thin gowns or tight breeches in shades of silver, gold, and blue. The one in the middle wore a simple golden diadem, and Alison recognized her at once: Nolwynn, their leader and Alison’s companion during her journey to Herot’s Hollow in the spring.
“Greetings again, Alison. You are welcome here,” she said, the others bowing slightly to their guests. “He, however, is not.” Nolwynn looked up at Keir with unmistakable contempt.
Alison looked at Keir, who was as puzzled as she was. “I don’t understand,” said Alison.
“He isn’t welcome. If you’d like to speak with me, he’ll need to leave.”
Alison opened her mouth to protest, but Keir stopped her with a hand on her forearm. “It’s alright,” he said. “I’m sure they know who my father is. We’re not far from the road back into Fossholm. I’ll go up to the house, and I’ll meet you back at the stables in a few hours. I trust you’ll help her find her way?”
“We will,” said Nolwynn. She stood as tall as her diminutive stature would allow, making it clear she wouldn’t say another word in his presence.
Keir gave Alison’s hand a parting squeeze and returned along the path they had taken.
Nolwynn and the korrigans led Alison along the stream and over another steppingstone path to their encampment, which seemed to be constructed mostly of salvaged goods: sheets and curtains in varying colors, discarded and broken bits of furniture, and a small campfire over which a crooked spit turned a dozen or so salmon. It was a small camp, which came as no surprise to Alison considering their size, but there were several Fulling-sized tents among the group, and there seemed to be quite a few Fullings moving about as well, although they had the same dress and hair as the korrigans themselves.
“You could keep better company, my dear,” said Nolwynn as she led Alison to a large tent near the campfire.
“What do you mean?” asked Alison. “Why isn’t Keir welcome here?”
Alison wondered what grave offense Keir could possibly have committed against the korrigans. The town had resented his absence, but Alison had never met anyone that had a real quarrel with him. He could be standoffish and a bit rude when cornered, but she’d never seen anyone send him away on their first encounter.
“There’s little good to say about any of them up at that house, but he is the worst of the lot,” said Nolwynn.
Alison followed Nolwynn’s gaze to a group gathered near the stream. They were mostly korrigans, but there were two Fullings with them. One appeared to be an older elf, although his silver hair might have had something to do with the korrigans’ influence rather than age. The other was human, her hair a very pale gold that matched a long gown that clung to her thin figure.
But her eyes. They were dark and wide as they caught Alison’s before quickly turning away.
Alison had seen them before. They were Keir’s eyes. His father’s eyes.
“Who is that?” she asked Nolwynn.
“Don’t mind her,” said Nolwynn, but Alison was already walking around the campfire towards the young woman.
Alison’s mind reeled. Keir had never mentioned a sister, but who else could she possibly be? She looked a bit younger than Alison and taller, not as tall as Keir or his father, but not far from it either.
“Leave me alone,” said the young woman as Alison approached. “I don’t wish to speak with you.”
“Who are you? Are you Keir’s sister?”
The young woman winced at the name as if Alison had slapped her across the face. “Stay away from him too. You don’t know him.”
“Alison, you don’t need to do this. I know this isn’t why you’ve come,” said Nolwynn, fluttering upwards on iridescent wings to come between them.
“I appreciate your concern, Nolwynn, but I need to know. Keir and I are together. If there’s something I need to know about him, I need one of you to tell me.”
She looked up at the korrigan, defiant. She did not doubt Keir, but there was clearly something about him she didn’t know, and she intended to find out what it was.
Nolwynn sighed, flying beside the young woman to place her tiny hand on her shoulder. “I think you should tell her, love. She deserves to know who the man she’s with truly is.”
The young woman composed herself, her features returning to neutrality in a way that was alarming familiar. It was exactly the same face Keir made when he regained control over his emotions.
“My name is Charlotte Ainsley, but I was born with a different name,” she said. “I lived there in that house with him as a child. I am his sister.”
Alison could not, would not, believe that Keir would have concealed an entire sibling from her.
And then she realized that he hadn’t.
“Danny?”