Read Online Faery Rebels by R. J. Anderson - Free Book Online Page B

however, came to an abrupt and spectacular end when Knife, with eight weary Gatherers in tow, climbed up the slope at the Oakenwyld’s western border to find a peculiar obstacle blocking their way to the Oak. Through a gap in the hedge Knife glimpsed a flash of sunlight on polished metal, the black-edged curve of an enormous wheel. With a chopping motion she directed the others to lie flat, and crawled beneath the bushes to examine the monstrous machine more closely.
    She assumed it was some new gardening tool that the humans had left on the lawn, but as soon as she emerged from the hedge she realized her mistake. Great Gardener. It’s him.
    He sat upon a silver throne, a book laid open on his knees: a young king, uncrowned and plainly dressed. He was slim, with broad shoulders and long arms wiry with muscle, and Knife thought he must be nearly as tall as hisfather when he stood. The wind blew his pale hair across his brow; he shook it back with an impatient movement of his head—
    And froze, staring. At her. At Knife.
    She couldn’t move. Her mouth worked dryly; her hand quivered on the hilt of the dagger at her hip. All the while those blue eyes regarded her unblinking, while wonder dawned on Paul McCormick’s face. She was only just out of reach; one lunge would put her in his grasp. But he did not move.
    “Paul!” came a shrill cry from the direction of the House.
    He turned his head toward the sound, and the spell shattered; Knife dove back through the hedge to find the shivering Gatherers waiting for her.
    “I’m coming to bring you in,” Beatrice shouted across the lawn. “It’s time for tea.”
    “What do we do?” whimpered Clover, her nails digging into Knife’s arm. Knife grimaced and shook her off.
    “Just wait,” she breathed. “He’ll be gone in a moment.”
    They all went still, listening to the crunch of footsteps on the fresh-mown grass. Just visible on the other side of the hedge, the woman’s stocking-clad legs appeared. “There now,” she said, and the wheels of the silver throne turned toward the House.
    “You were right beside him,” whispered Holly in Knife’sear. “So close—to a human . Weren’t you afraid?”
    “No,” said Knife distractedly, watching Paul’s seated figure shrink toward the House and finally vanish through the back door. She turned to the others. “It’s safe now. Pick up your baskets and let’s go.”
    “Did he see you?” squeaked another voice.
    Knife ducked under the hedge and began walking toward the Oak, not looking back.
    “Of course not,” she said.

Six
    K nife lay on her bed, staring at the gnarled ceiling of her room. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Paul was still sitting in his wheeled throne, looking at her.
    She couldn’t believe she had just stood there like that, right in front of a human. Perhaps it was the shock. She had been too astonished to feel afraid, or even to move. And fortunately he had been just as astonished, or she might not be here right now.
    Yet it wasn’t just shock that had made Knife linger by Paul’s side: It was fascination. This was the boy she had met when she first stepped out of the Oak eight summers ago, after all, and part of her had always longed to see him again….
    She flopped over onto her stomach, rubbing her eyes. Stupid girl, she told herself. He might not want to eat you, but he could still stomp you flat in an instant. Or worse, he could put you in a cage and keep you there until you die. He’s human, and you’re a faery—you’re nothing alike.
    A soft tapping sounded at her door. “Hello?” she said, but there was no reply.
    Mystified, Knife rose, lit her candlestick, and went to answer. She stepped out onto the landing and looked around, but all the doors were closed. Had she imagined that knock?
    Then her foot struck something solid, and she bit back a yelp as it skittered away across the floor. Some crawling insect—? But no, it was just a small parcel, with her name printed on