Magnus sighed, and closed his eyes.
Save thine effort. Rage imbued Cordelia's thoughts. I flit to thee already!
And Robin?
He hath gone before, with Kelly! Fess stands ready, too, if needed, but I shall leave my sweet unicorn behind.
"She comes," Magnus reported, "yet more slowly; lasses cannot appear and disappear."
"We'll be done with thee, then," Hugh snarled, and nodded to Bertram. The brute grinned and yanked the dagger back for a stab.
Gregory bleated and twisted; his brothers shouted as his body whiplashed, slamming the thugs who held him against the ground. Bertram's dagger stabbed into bare dirt.
Then a tearing scream pierced their ears, and a missile shot down from the sky to slam into Bertram, knocking him backwards. "Foul beast!" the ten-year-old witch cried. "Wouldst thou then slay babes?"
The other thugs roared and leaped for her—and lurched against something unseen, something that yanked them up to dangle, feet a foot off the ground, as their faces grew purple and they thrashed about in panic—but the only sound that emerged from their throats was a muted gargling.
Hugh stared up at them, pop-eyed; then he whirled and slammed a vicious backhand blow into Magnus's face, knocking him back and away. He yanked Gregory up against him, holding the boy in front of his chest and backing away, his own dagger in his hand. "Stay away! Do not seek to take me—or I'll slit his throat!"
Geoffrey's eyes narrowed, and a rock shot up off the forest floor to crack into Hugh's skull. His arm loosened as his eyes rolled up, and he slumped to the ground.
"Gregory! Art thou hurted?" Cordelia dove for her baby brother, cradling him in her arms; but he stared past her shoulder at the men dangling from the trees, fear and horror in his face. "Cordelia! What hath happed to them?"
Into the ring of hanging thugs strode an eighteen-inch elf, face white with rage. "Hear! Oh men of no heart—as I know thou canst for a minute more, ere thy breath ceases. 'Tis the Puck who doth stand before thee, and elves who ride the high branches above thee, with nooses braided of hundreds of strands of spiders' silk that thou canst see not!"
"Eh! Fell captain!" cried a voice from the leaves, and the children turned to see Kelly strutting on a limb by a small brown person who knelt, guarding an invisible twine. "Shall we harvest this rotting fruit, then?"
"Puck, do not slay them!" Cordelia cried. "They be evil men, yet surely not so evil as that!"
"Be not so certain." Geoffrey stood glaring up, pale and trembling. "They have fled from their brothers in arms. Surely such could do anything, no matter how foul."
But the thrashing was weakening, stilling, and the staring eyes dulled.
Puck nodded at Kelly. "Cut them down."
The Irishman nodded at the brownies, and the thugs fell with a crash. Foot-high elves popped up next to them, slashing with tiny knives, and the deserters' chests rose, slowly.
"They live." Puck spat. "Though I regret it. Still, I would not afright thee too greatly."
"I thank thee," Cordelia breathed, and Gregory, huddled next to her, nodded.
The elf stumped over to the unconscious Hugh, eyes hidden in a scowl. "He doth lie senseless, children, yet I've no doubt thou canst peer within his mind. Do thou find the pic-tures of the men who have bribed these villains to slay thee."
The children crowded around, and Cordelia frowned down at Hugh's face. They waited, poised; the image appeared in her mind, and the others saw it, then sat back with a sigh.
"'Tis the slight ones," Magnus said, "the old ones with scant hair and burning eyes."
Gregory nodded. "They who seek to abolish all governance."
"As indeed they must be," Geoffrey said, "and have gone far already in so doing." He shuddered. "Only think! That governance could be so far decayed as for soldiers to desert their stations!"
Chapter 6
They set off into the moonlit wood, Puck leading the way with Cordelia right behind him on her unicorn. Kelly brought up the rear, on its rump. "Wherefore," said he, "should I then walk?"
"And thou hast the gall to excoriate me for lack of industry," Puck snorted.
But half an hour into the woods, the unicorn suddenly stopped, lifting her head and looking off toward the east.
Geoffrey frowned. "What ails her?"
"I think that she doth hear summat that we cannot." Puck cupped his ear, listening. Then he shook his head. "An she doth, it escapes me quite. What sayest thou, Horseface?"
"A moment, while I boost amplification." Fess lifted his head, ears turned in the direction the unicorn was pointing. "I do hear cries. They are very high-pitched, and faint with distance."
" 'High-pitched'?" Puck scowled. "And of interest to a unicorn? That hath the sound of Wee Folk in need of aid. Come, children! Let us seek!"
The children didn't need persuading.
They wound through the woods for half an hour, with Puck dodging around the roots of shrubs and through gaps in the underbrush, and Fess following him, to beat down a path. Behind him came the unicorn, with her nostrils flaring, and white showing all around her eyes.
Finally, the children could hear the cries too. They were very high, as Fess had said, and sounded very distressed. As they came closer, the children could understand the words: "A rescue! A rescue!"
"Help us! Aid, good folk!"
"There is, at least, no present danger," Cordelia said. "There's unhappiness in those words, but no great fear."
"Then let us find them ere it comes," Magnus said.
"'Tis here!" Puck cried.
The children stopped, startled, for the voices had still been so faint that they had thought them some distance away. But Puck dove into the underbrush almost under Fess's nose and started pulling back branches. The unicorn let out a musical neigh and pushed forward, pawing at the bushes and fallen leaves. Between them, they uncovered a small iron cage, with two foot-high people in it. They were clothed in green, the one decorated with flowers, the other with red, yellow, and orange leaves. They looked up with children's faces, and cried with delight when they saw the unicorn.
" 'Tis one of the Silver People!"
"Greeting, Velvet One! What good chance brings thee?"
The unicorn whickered softly, butting her nose against the cage.
"She wants them out." Cordelia knelt by the cage, and the two fairies fell silent, staring up at her, wide-eyed. "Oh, fear me not! I wish thee no hurt!"
"'Tis but a lass," the flowered one said to her sister, in a high, clear voice.
"Aye! A bairn would not wish us ill!" The leafy one turned back to Cordelia. "I am Fall, and here is my sister, Summer."
Summer dropped a curtsy. She was chubby and ruby-cheeked, with a smile that seemed as though it could never fade.
"I am Cordelia." The girl bobbed her head in lieu of a curtsy, since she was already kneeling. "What is this horrid contrivance that houses thee?"
"Why, 'tis a rabbit's trap." Puck sauntered up. "How now, sprites! What coneys art thou, to be caught in so rude a snare?"
"As much as thou art a lob, to stand there and jibe without loosing us," Fall retorted. She was slender and supple, with short-cropped brown hair.
"A hare was caught within," Summer explained. "We could hear its frantic thumpings, and we took sticks to pry the door up and free it."
"Most kindly done." Puck grinned. "And did it lock thee in, for thanks?"
"Nearly," Fall confessed. "We held up the door, and the hopper thumped on out—but as it fled, one great hind foot caught me in the middle, and sent me sprawling. My sister could not keep the door up alone."
"It crashed down on me, most shrewdly," Summer sighed, "and we were trapped within."