Shadow Wrack. Kim Thompson
to find Miss Trang, but she wasn’t there. She could hear muffled hammering in the basement as she walked slowly around the outline of the house-to-be. The bare plank floor looked the same as it had the day before. The only parts of the house that were higher than ground level were the white beams growing up out of the ground. They were up to Willa’s knees now. The hammering stopped, replaced by sawing. Willa sat down, enjoying a moment of calm, listening to the wind in the trees. She looked up to see a great flock of starlings settle in a swaying elm in the park.
There was movement in the grass, and a small green hoop, a little larger than a bracelet, rolled toward her. Willa smiled as it reached her foot and unclamped itself. Four beady little eyes peered up. It was the amphisbena, a two-headed snaky-lizard-type creature.
“So you’re still around,” she murmured softly. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
The amphisbena heads looked at each other and responded with a quiet little chitter.
Just then a thunk sounded behind Willa. Startled, one lizard head chomped onto the neck of the other and it rolled off, disappearing into the tall grass. Willa turned to see a hammer poking up through a gap in the boards covering the basement. Slowly it rose, the handle coming into view with six little fairies straining to heave it the whole way out. They spotted Willa and froze, eyes wide and guilty. The sawing below stopped, and Willa heard muffled, angry voices. She looked sternly at the fairies.
“Sarah! What are you up to?”
Sarah feigned innocence, her eyes going wide in a “who, me?” look.
“Give the dwarves their hammer back.”
The other fairies looked to Sarah, who shrugged, still grinning. They let go and the hammer dropped. A great howl of pain sounded from below and the fairies scattered, giggling.
“Always something,” sighed Willa.
Chapter Three
War is declared
“He said to look through her eyes,” said Willa. “So I’ve been staring and staring, but she doesn’t seem to like it. She keeps hissing and spitting at me.”
“Hmmm.” Tengu nodded and peered into the cage. The phoenix hissed and he jumped back.
“Say, Tengu …” Willa went on. “You don’t know where Horace’s cufflinks are, do you?”
Tengu looked blankly at her. “Horace has cufflinks?”
She smiled. “Never mind, I’m sure they’ll turn up.”
“Let me try something.” Tengu pulled up a chair and sat down, facing the bird.
“What are you going to do?”
“Hypnotize her!” Tengu grinned. He turned and stared intently at the bird. She squawked and circled the cage, feathers dropping behind her. There were bare patches on her neck and back. Tengu started humming a low note.
Willa crossed her fingers and watched. More humming, more staring. No reaction from the bird.
“Tengu, what do you know about Belle’s past?”
Tengu didn’t take his eyes off the phoenix as he answered. “Nothing, really. But I do know that mermaids are flighty and selfish.”
“That sounds like Belle all right.”
“That sounds like people too. Mermaids and people are very similar. Mermaids are just … sharper about it. They hold grudges for centuries, not weeks. They live for so long you never know what’s floating around in their heads. They’re hard to pin down.”
Willa thought about this. What kind of family could she have that included a mystery like Belle?
The bird was now frozen in place, head tilted a little, eyes blazing as she stared unblinking into Tengu’s eyes.
“Tengu! I think you’ve got her!” Willa whispered.
Tengu had stopped humming, totally absorbed in the staring contest. Willa held her breath. The room was silent. The bird looked like a statue. Tengu was swaying slightly, his eyes bugging out. Then one eyelid twitched and he let out an ear-splitting …
“SQUAWK! SQUAAAAWK!”
“Tengu!” Willa gently put her hands on his shoulders and gave him a little shake. “Tengu! Snap out of it.”
“Wha? Hm?” He let out another sputtering squawk and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
Behind him the bird crashed into the bars of the cage.
Willa sighed. “Nothing. Thanks for trying, Tengu.”
“No sweat,” he answered with a bright smile. “SQUAWK!”
The phoenix screeched Willa awake just after five on Saturday morning. To be fair, though, the bird had been woken by the fairies at the window. It took Willa a groggy moment to register that they were there, five little figures with Sarah in the lead, rapping their tiny knuckles on the glass and chittering like squirrels while the bird screamed. Willa moved the birdcage into her closet and shut the door. She made shushing signals to the fairies, but they only hollered louder.
“All right, I’m coming out! Hold on!” she snapped, grabbing her robe.
The house was still and quiet. Willa tiptoed out the back door just as the fairies came around the corner. She sat on the back step as they swarmed around her head in a cloud of chatter.
“I can’t hear what you’re saying! STOP TALKING!” Willa turned to Sarah. “What is going on?”
“Iron nails! To keep us out!” she squeaked.
“Who’s got iron nails?”
“The dwarves,” hissed Sarah, her eyes blazing.
“Okay. Are they magic or something?”
“Anti-fairy magic!”
“So … they’re keeping you out of the work site. With iron nails?”
Nods all around. Willa rubbed her eyes and yawned.
“I dunno. That seems reasonable, don’t you think? They need to do their work, and you were bugging them.”
The fairies didn’t like that very much. Willa heard some low growls. She tried again.
“You’ve got to make peace with the dwarves. We need the house finished. Can’t you just be nice to them?”
The fairies looked to Sarah as she considered this. Then she nodded slowly, with a sly smile. The fairies flew off in a huddle, whispering and laughing. Willa didn’t like it one bit.
After breakfast, Willa grabbed her bike and rode over to Eldritch Manor. Eldritch Hole-in-the-Ground is more like it, she thought. As she stepped into the yard and closed the gate behind her, she spotted Tengu sitting in the grass, happily eating a muffin.
“Good morning, Willa!”
“Hi, Tengu. What’s this I hear about iron nails?”
Tengu shook his head. “Don’t worry, I pulled them out.” At his side was a small pile of roughly made nails.
“Actually, I was thinking they were a good idea.”
“Not necessary. A truce has been called. The fairies made a peace offering.”
Willa raised an eyebrow. “A peace offering. Really?”
Tengu jumped up, showing her the last of his muffin. “Yes, they made rosehip gooseberry muffins. Fantastic.” He popped it into his mouth. He smiled at her. Then his