Witch Catcher
glanced around, as if she expected to see someone sneaking toward us through the trees. "Mostyn showed me them pretty colors all spinning and shining, and in I went through the spout—
poof,
from the size I be now to something no bigger than a nandy caterpillar."
    "I don't believe you." That's what I said, but it wasn't entirely true. More and more I
wanted
to believe her. After all, we had an enemy in common. "For one thing," I went on, "if you'd really been trapped in that globe, you'd be a witch—or an evil spirit."
    Kieryn threw back her head and laughed. "Is that what
her
told ye?"
    "Yes, but—"
    She leaned out of the tree and regarded me with a fierce scowl. "Truly true, I were in the globe, but
her
lied to ye about the traps and what they catch. I ain't a witch, nor be I evil. Those snarky traps suck in everything that's magic-good as wed as bad." She flipped around and hung by her knees, her face level with mine. "Remember this, Jen. Witches
always
lie. It's against their very blood and bone to tell the truth."
    Confused, I backed away from that odd little upside-down face.
    "Surely yer not afeared of me, Jen?" She grinned her sly little grin and swung back and forth by her knees. "I mean ye no harm, ye great ninny. I swear it."
    "Of course I'm not scared of you," I said, hoping she couldn't hear my heart going
boom-diddyboom
like a big bass drum. "Why should I be?"
    "What if / be a witch?" Kieryn dropped from the tree like a ripe apple and landed on the ground beside me. This close she smelled like cinnamon and dust.
    "But you just told me you're not a witch."
    Kieryn laughed and clapped her hands. "Yes, but I also told ye witches lie."
    Suddenly serious, she studied my face so long I had to look away in embarrassment. Finally, she turned to Tink, still stretched out on the low branch. "Can I trust her?"
    The cat tipped his head ever so slightly in my direction, and purred.
    Kieryn nodded, satisfied. "First, ye must swear on yer very heart and soul never, ever,
ever
to tell anyone about me—or who I be. Not
her.
Not
him.
Not even yer own dear daddy."
    Almost hypnotized by the intensity of Kieryn's gaze, I took a deep breath and whispered, "I swear on my very heart and soul never to tell anyone about you. Never, ever,
ever.
"
    Kieryn hesitated, as if she still didn't quite trust me. Tink purred and dropped down from the tree into my arms. "Well," Kieryn said to the cat, "if ye trust her, I reckon I will, too, for cats be good at judging who's good and who's bad."
    Glancing over her shoulder, she studied the woods behind her as if to make sure no one hid behind the trees. "First ye must know my kinkind go by many names in yer world. 'Travelers,' some call us, because we come from far away. Others call us 'the people' or 'the strangers' because they're scared to say our real name. A few call us 'friends.' But, Jen, listen close and I'll tell ye the truth."
    She pressed her mouth against my ear and whispered, "What I be is fairy."
    I drew away from the warm breath tingling in my ear. Almost as if she stood beside me, I heard Moura's voice saying,
Fairies aren't the dear little creatures you imagine them to be.... they are malicious, spiteful, and completely untrustworthy.
    "You can't be a fairy," I whispered, frightened now of her strangeness, her pointed face, her odd eyes. Perhaps Moura had been trying to protect me, not harm me.
    Misunderstanding what I'd said, Kieryn shook her head in disgust. "If ye think my kinkind be no bigger than dimbob butterflies flitting about rose gardens, ye been reading the wrong books. We be full-size folk—clever as foxes, good at tricks and magic, flummoxers and rascals from way back."
    I stared at her, still fearful, unsure. Moura's words ran round and round in my
head—wicked, beyond imagining.... She's a fairy I wouldn't want to meet in a dark wood.
    "'Tis
her,
ain't it?" Kieryn's small face screwed itself into a fierce grimace. "Ye been listening to the lies
her
tells about my

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