studying weather this year. I could rain on them. Or try to blow the spears aside with a strong wind. I’ve been learning plant lore too. I could grow really nasty herbs under their feet.”
“How long would that take?”
“A season or two. That’s not fast enough, is it?”
“No.” Helen looked round the half circle of faeries . There didn’t seem to be one more elaborately dressed, or more violently inclined, than the rest; there was no obvious leader.
The laughter behind her was still tinkling and ringing.
Helen met the eyes of the tallest faery warrior. “I’m turning round,” she said clearly. The warrior nodded.
Helen turned. James was gone. So were the sandwiches. But the water bottle was still stuck in the earth.
In his place was a laughing woman.
No. Not exactly in his place. She seemed brighter than James had been, more clearly lit, but further away, as if the hole in the ground was deeper now.
Helen was beginning to doubt whether anything she saw in this earthy root cave was there at all.
Wherever the woman was, she was laughing at Helen.
So Helen stared at her. Rucksack on her shoulder, arms folded, she just stared. She wasn’t being very polite, she knew that. But laughing at someone surrounded by spears wasn’t polite either.
The woman’s beautiful face and elegant hands stayed pale and constant in front of Helen, while the patterns and colours on her dress kept changing , sliding and slipping into each other, like an oily rainbow film on a puddle stirred by a passing car.
Though Helen knew the woman was laughing at her, she was drawn to her glowing face and hypnotic clothes. She shook her head, saying to herself, I bet she has more wrinkles than Lee has spots.
She could still hear Lavender, from the depths of her collar, running through an optimistic list of scary plants and dangerous weather. She lifted her right foot, taking a tiny step towards the toppled tree. Whatever magic had stopped her reaching the boy, it wasn’t stopping her reaching the woman.The window had become a door. Helen could just jump right into the hollow.
She knew that would be a very bad idea. So she just kept staring.
Now Lavender was whispering insistently, “It’s the Faery Queen.”
“I’d guessed that,” Helen murmured back.
“Bow to her or something.”
“Why?”
“You have to show respect.”
“Why? She’s not showing me any.”
The woman’s laughter was fading.
“Jam sandwiches?” she chuckled. “Do you think a packet of sticky sandwiches will tempt him more than our faery feasts?”
Helen suspected she knew more about what James ate than this woman did, but she didn’t say so. Even if she wasn’t going to be polite, the best way to follow the rest of Lee’s advice, to say only what she meant, was to say very little.
“So, human child, do you want the boy back?” asked the Faery Queen.
Helen nodded.
“What can you offer me in exchange that is worth more than a precious child?”
Helen wondered how to answer that. “Tell me what you value and I’ll see if I can offer it.”
“I want you .”
Helen had expected that and kept her voice steady. “Just me?”
“You … and all your friends at the music school. I want you to play your wonderful music at my midsummer revels.”
The Queen smiled and spoke in a softer voice. “I know you’re a great fiddler, Helen Strang. I can’t wait to dance to the magical music you make.”
Helen grinned. The Queen had heard of her! The Queen knew she was a great fiddler! Wouldn’t it be wonderful to watch a dress like that move in time to her music? Wouldn’t it be wonderful to hear a voice like that compliment her playing?
Helen hummed the first movement of Professor Greenhill’s music. Lavender said something, but Helen just hummed louder. The Queen’s feet tapped, the hem of her dress swayed.
Then Helen saw the bottle of water, near and not near the toes of the Queen’s perfectly polished silver pumps.
She felt the
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