Page 18 of Outcast Fae
Daniella’s worried eyes roved around the jungle canopy. Her glasses were smudged and her chin-length black hair stuck up at the back. She looked frail and helpless.
“Are we stuck here?” she asked.
The disembodied voice we’d heard last night answered, jarring and loud.
“Good morning, campers,” Meadow Song chirped. “You have made it through Night One. Congratulations.”
“No thanks to you,” Wally mumbled from his place on the ground.
“You’ve found our forcefield,” Meadow Song said. “Don’t worry. It is only temporary, to keep you safe and together during the night.”
Safe? From what?
“I have good news,” Meadow Song said. “Because you worked together to save one of your own yesterday, breakfast is on us.”
A large boulder I hadn’t noticed before cracked open, splitting wide like an egg. Inside were little packages wrapped in brown paper and secured with twine. Vaughn picked one up and pulled the string, revealing a hunk of pink, marbled meat.
Elon scrambled over and lifted a smaller package. He uncovered finger-length sticks with red ends. They were the fire starters the humans called matches.
There were six packages in all, something they called bacon, oranges, canteens, matches, a fishing net, and a flat metal disk we could use to cook the bacon over the fire.
"You should now be ready for your next task," Meadow Song said sweetly.
"Which is?" Elon asked, craning his head back.
“Breakfast.” She giggled, though how she found any of this funny was beyond me. I knew a few fae in my world who had gone sour in the head, and I wondered if such a thing had happened to Meadow Song.
Vaughn pointed to Daniella. “You, collect sticks. Elon, get some rocks and make a fire pit. I’ll get the fire started.”
I noticed he didn’t give me or Wally a task. Wally would have likely refused, choosing to sulk instead. And me? He’d gone cold again after he’d saved my life. Maybe he didn’t want me dead, even if he still seemed to find me repulsive.
But that didn’t matter. The children had been taken, and I needed to get out of here to find them.
While my campmates were occupied, I found the forcefield and ran my hands along it as I walked its perimeter. It didn’t take me long to find that we were enclosed in a tight circle about thirty feet in diameter. How they were pulling it off, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know spells. The only magic I could do was to glamour things, like when I made my wings disappear, and any fae could do that, kind of like animals camouflaging their bodies against foliage.
It was easy for humans to forget my wings when they couldn't see them. That gave me an idea.
Glancing over my shoulder to see if anyone was looking, I fluttered my wings. The four humans were gathered around a pile of sticks. No one took any notice of me. I had to hope that was the case for Meadow Song and the rest.
Keeping my hand on the invisible barrier, I rose into the air.
I flew up as quickly as I could, making sure to keep one hand on the forcefield. Five feet, six feet, seven feet up, it held. Suddenly, at twelve feet up, my hand pushed into open air.
Could it be?
I swung my arms out. No barrier.
Hope soaring in my chest, I spurred my aching wings on, flying toward the salt smell.
“Hey!” a voice shouted. When I glanced back, Vaughn was staring accusingly at me.
I turned my head away. That tattle-taling weasel was trying to foil my escape again.
I flew. Vaughn coulde fhèinhimself.
The wind buffeted my clothes and tugged at my hair, making it hard to weave through the trees. I flew harder. The wind followed suit, picking up speed, howling, ripping leaves off trees and swaying branches, whichthwackedat me as I tried to dodge them. They clawed at my clothes, trying to snarl my hair. I tucked in my arms and legs, making myself small as I darted through the tiny crevices between the foliage.
A gust of wind hit me hard, blasting me sideways. My body bashed into a tree and went spinning. My wings fought to right me, but I went down, tumbling over and over until I crashed into the underbrush.
