Phoenix Rising Read online

  Her brothers both rolled their eyes, and Patrick said, “Good grief. As if pixies disappearing is the biggest issue we need to talk about. What about the goblins?”

  “Goblins?” Amber suddenly felt a chill run down her spine. “What about goblins?” She squeezed her mom’s hand again.

  “Yeah,” Patrick replied. “Five of them. Green and nasty, all decked out in weapons and ready for a fight. I guess they killed Roger’s best cow, and he tried to shoot them with a bow. But you know Roger, he can’t hit anything. They took the cow and left, but Roger thinks they’ll come right back.”

  “When did that happen?” Amber asked. “How come he never said anything?”

  “Well, it happened yesterday,” Patrick said. “And Roger’s had his hands full—he was actually going to head to Wakefield today but decided not to. Ryder says other villages more inland are seeing goblins too. He says the roads are becoming less safe all the time.”

  “Roger says the goblins are probably close by, so be careful going into the woods.” Shane looked at Amber with raised eyebrows.

  “Who cares about Roger and a few goblins anyways?” Patrick asked impatiently. “I’m more interested in the phoenix. You know, Douglas said it was all fiery and headed toward the village when he shot at it and it turned toward him. He said it was hard to know what it was ’cause it was like a winged ball of flame, but it had these piercing bright eyes. When he shot at it again, it turned and left. I think it’ll be back, and we should be ready to fight.”

  Kirsten chimed in, “He said it went east, along the coast.”

  “Whatever.” Patrick shook his head and kicked a rock down the dirt road. “It’s scary, and we need to be ready to shoot at it again.”

  Amber turned to her father. “Dad, what do you think? Why is all of this happening?”

  “Good question. I don’t really see any connection, except that it’s all happening at once. The pixies are interesting. You said you talked with them?”

  “Yeah. But you have to kind of trick them into saying anything. They never come out right out and say what’s on their mind. It makes them feel more special and important, I guess.”

  Her mind raced. I bet Flurry will know more about the goblins and the flying fire creature. She sure seemed upset tonight.

  They walked for a while longer, then approached the familiar green door of their small yellow house. A thin brown dog stood and wagged its tail when it saw them.

  “What’s our plan then? I heard that there are three groups and that you’re leading one of them, Dad.”

  “Well . . .” Shane began.

  “I’m going to practice my sword-fighting skills,” Patrick interrupted. “And archery, of course, though I don’t need much help with that.” He looked at his older brother slyly. “Since I won the competition this year and all.”

  Shane shook his head. “Whatever. You’re good, but you got lucky. It could have gone any of three ways, if you ask me.”

  “Nobody asked you, did they?” Patrick gave Shane a slight push.

  Kirsten said, “I think we all should get more prepared, like we talked about at the meeting. Not just fighting—but be ready.”

  “Indeed,” their dad said, heading to put a log on the fire as everyone else took off their shoes and hung their jackets. “At this point, we’re going to set up watches in the town’s lookout tower and in the lighthouse tower. We’ll have people taking turns doing watches, and we’ll all pitch in to help, so at least we can be ready for whatever comes next. But some folks are going to have to rebuild what’s been destroyed, and there’s talk about what sort of preparations to do if goblins come back.”

  “All townsfolk are going to be trained in some form of self-defense. You’re good with a bow already, Amber, so I’m not worried about you.” He looked at the other kids. “We’ve taught all of you to take care of yourselves, and none of you is lacking in your marksmanship. But there are lots of folks who are absolutely not prepared whatsoever. Everyone’s going to be busy for a while, taking watch, learning combat techniques, practicing with bows and close combat weapons.”

  Amber frowned. “But, Dad, shouldn’t we find out more about what’s happening? I know you want people to be trained, but it seems like there’s a lot going on out there. Don’t you think we need to get out and do something? Find out more?”

  Pacing back and forth, she clasped her hands together. “You’ve always told us to never wait around for things to come to us but to go out and make life happen. Why are we just waiting for the next trouble?”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Patrick said. “That’s why I’m going to practice my hand-to-hand combat techniques and go find some goblins.”

  Kirsten smacked her forehead. “For goodness sake. What good is that going to do? You can be such a bonehead sometimes.”

  “It’s more than I’ve heard you talk about,” Patrick said. “You’re just going to sit here and watch in a tower. Whoop-de-doo. Not for me. I’m going to get out there and find some goblins to put in their place.”

  Her dad shook his head. “You’re both right. Patrick, we do need to send people around the village to ensure goblins don’t come close enough to kill our flocks or—heaven forbid—any people. And, Kirsten, we absolutely need people on watch for any other flying creatures coming our way. If Douglas could scare it off with a few shots, that gives me hope that we can keep it at bay if we know it’s coming.”

  “As for us older folks . . .” He looked at Shane. “There will be lots of rebuilding to do and work needs to be done to fortify our meager defenses. We could improve the wall that was begun twenty years ago—actually finish it—which would leave only a few ways to get into town. That would help a lot, I think.”

  “But someone still has to do the chores,” Patrick looked at Amber. “Why don’t you stay out of our way and make sure things still get done. Someone has to.”

  Amber sat quietly, a quiet frustration bubbling up inside. She tapped her foot on the floor and gazed into the fire. None of the answers gave enough of a clue. She wanted to know more, like why were all these things happening at once? It seemed too odd to be a coincidence.

  Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow when I go back to the pixies, I’ll tell them what I know and see what else I can learn. There has to be more we can do. Flurry was going to tell me something else today. I need to know what it is.

  3

  Pixies

  AMBER QUIETLY WALKED IN THE WOODS with an arrow notched at her bow. She was usually at peace in the old forest, as if she and the trees were good friends, like she understood them. But this time was different. The woods felt more ominous knowing goblins could be nearby.

  “Flurry?” Amber called, walking up to the spot where they had often met in the past. She waited in the silence. Something was definitely not right. “Flurry?”

  She peered into the trees. Was that movement? There was a flitter and a rustling. She strained to see. Suddenly a pixie went hurtling past branches in the distance, chased by a small, dark, flying imp. The imp looked evil and disgusting, with long dangly limbs and awful-looking talons on the ends of its fingers and toes.

  She raised her bow and shot, missing by mere inches. The imp caught up with the pixie and snatched it out of the air with its long talons.

  Her heart quickened.

  She drew another arrow and shot. It landed in the imp’s body, sending the creature to the ground.

  She heard it thud in the distance and ran over to look.

  The imp was definitely dead, but the pixie appeared dead as well. Amber immediately recognized him. He was Wix, a friend of Flurry’s—a handsome pixie, who always made her smile. Tears welled up as she looked at his still face. Just as she reached down to pick him up from the imp’s grasp, she had an eerie feeling there was another imp watching her.

  She whirled around, her bow at the ready, and scanned the trees. She didn’t see anything but sensed the forest wasn’t at peace . . . an unwanted visitor was still there.
She breathed in deeply, determining where the imp might be. A sudden prickly feeling trailed down the back of her neck, and she turned to look at a tall, old oak tree. She raised her bow, eyeing every branch.

  A slight movement about twenty-five feet up caught her eye. She wasn’t quite sure if something was there. The branch appeared to have something a bit dark on it. Was it moss? She aimed and released an arrow at the dark spot. The arrow whizzed toward it and thunked into something.

  There was a high-pitched gurgle, then an imp dropped off the branch, knocking into a few other branches before falling to the ground. Amber stood waiting with another arrow notched. She listened and watched carefully.

  Her mind raced. What did Mrs. Juniper teach me about imps? Think, Amber! Think! Do they travel in larger groups—or is this it?

  She stood quietly for a few minutes, waiting. When she heard a bird chittering nearby, she relaxed.

  “Flurry? Are you there? I think it’s safe now.” Her ears pricked, listening for any noise in the old forest.

  After a moment she walked back to where Wix lay in the imp’s talons. She picked him up gently, not disturbing his fragile wings. “Wix didn’t make it. I’m so sorry. I wish I’d come sooner.”

  She caught a glimmer from the corner of her eye. Flurry and another fairy she didn’t recognize fluttered toward her, eyes darting about anxiously. Flurry looked anguished when she saw her injured friend in Amber’s hand.

  “I’m so sorry, Flurry. I couldn’t save him.” Amber frowned and held out Wix. The fairy next to Flurry was an older male, dressed elegantly and looking confident. He flew over to Wix and lifted a small wand, waving it gently over the limp pixie. Amber watched in awe as Wix took a rugged breath.

  “Not dead,” the fairy said. “But very nearly. Thank you for saving him.”

  Amber breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, I’m so glad. I thought for sure he was dead.”

  She turned to Flurry. “Is this why you pixies are leaving? Because you’re being attacked?”

  “So many questions.” Flurry was instantly full of her usual spunky energy. She was dressed smartly in a blue-and-white tight-fitting outfit, which seemed quite out of place with the trauma they had just been through. In typical pixie fashion, she avoided Amber’s question completely. “Here’s what I want to know. Where’s your new hat?”

  Amber laughed. “Okay, you got me. You were right. But seriously.” She looked at Flurry with pleading eyes. “You’re obviously under attack. And we’ve learned more about the fire. It was created from a flying creature—we think it was a phoenix that attacked our wheat fields. Our whole town could have burned, and it looked like it was going to burn more things until someone shot at it. This seems pretty serious. Can you give me a hint about what’s going on?”

  Flurry looked at Amber, and her eyes softened. She was quiet for a moment, then said. “Thank you for saving Wix. Yes, we are leaving. At least for now. You should probably leave as well. I think you’ll be able to help your village more out there.” She pointed, and Amber turned to look into the woods before realizing Flurry wasn’t pointing at anything in particular. Or was she?

  Amber puzzled over Flurry’s words. In some ways, she was surprised by the answer, but she also expected that any information she’d get would be unusual and hard to decipher. As a general rule, pixies were notorious for never giving away anything unless absolutely necessary. Amber had learned over the years that to get them to share anything meaningful she either had to make them think she already knew about it or give them significant compliments.

  She had a theory that pixies actually traveled far and wide. That—combined with their habit to gossip—made them highly aware of happenings all over. But they rarely parted with information unless they felt it benefited them.

  The pixie she didn’t recognize helped Wix stand and supported him as he flew off Amber’s hand. “I’m going to take him to Maple,” he said, and the two fluttered into the woods. Wix flew slowly and erratically, and Amber’s heart sank as she imagined the pain he was still in.

  She turned back to Flurry. “You think I could do something out there? What would I do? I mean, I was thinking someone should find out more, not just stay here. But where would I go?”

  “I want to give you something. Follow me.” Flurry flew deeper into the woods, and Amber followed closely behind. She felt a slight exhilaration. Flurry had never shown her anything before. Was she going to see their home for the first time?

  The two wound through trees and entered a small grassy clearing surrounded by tall trees. The place didn’t feel unusual, although Amber was fairly certain she’d never been there before. She looked around, wondering if there was any clue about the place and realized it was completely ringed by yellow-and-orange mushrooms. She wouldn’t have noticed unless she was looking for it. Was she in the pixie’s home?

  Flurry went to a hole in a large tree and flew inside, coming out a moment later with a sack draped over her shoulder. She carried it to Amber. “Put your hand out.”

  Amber put her hand out, and Flurry dropped the sack into it. It was about the size of a small coin pouch and had only one item in it.

  “Open it.”

  Amber pulled out a smooth white rock with a black line notched on one side; it dangled from a string that went through the center of it. She glided her fingers across its smooth surface, then lifted the string and watched it spin around.

  “It’s an enchanted stone. Ask it where to go, and it will spin and point there. But you can only ask it one question, so be careful what you say. Don’t use it unless you have to. After you invoke the magic, it’ll always point in the right direction every time you pull it out. Try your best without it first.”

  Amber’s heart pounded with excitement. A magical stone! She’d read about magical items in her books, but this was the real thing. She wasn’t sure if anyone in Seabrook had anything enchanted. Was she the first?

  “I don’t know what to say, Flurry. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “No. Thank you. For saving us from those imps. And also for what you’re about to do. I’ve appreciated our friendship, Amber. You should know you’re special.”

  Amber looked at the pixie, puzzled. What does that mean? she wondered. She waited for Flurry to continue, but the pixie remained quiet.

  “Um. So . . . how am I special?” Amber asked.

  Flurry smiled. “It’s your hat!” She had her usual mischievous smile again and flew back and forth in a jittery pattern that made Amber a little dizzy. It’s what Flurry did when she was feeling excited. Amber giggled, and Flurry continued, “Maybe we’ll see each other again. If all goes well, that will be soon! But I have to go now. They’re waiting for me.”

  “Ok then.” She tried to sound like it was all good, like not knowing didn’t matter. But it did. A lot. Inside, she was anything but calm. Her stomach felt like it would explode. The pixies were always so difficult to understand.

  Her thoughts swirled. What does that mean—I’m special? Special in a general way, like everyone is “special,” or did she mean something more? I wish the pixies didn’t talk in riddles! Still, she definitely gave me more information than usual. And the enchanted stone! I guess that means I should really go. But where? I suppose I can ask the stone if I get stuck.

  She took a deep breath. “Alright then. That’s it,” she said out loud to no one. “I’ll do it. I’m going to find out what’s going on—why a phoenix would burn our fields and why the imps and goblins are attacking. I’ll leave today. And nobody is going to talk me out of it!”

  4

  Escape

  FLURRY FOLLOWED HER FRIENDS through the forest, fluttering from tree to tree in case any other imps were out there.

  I can’t believe we’re leaving our home of all these years, she thought. Wix and the elder who’d shown up from another tribe were far ahead of her, but she could sense their trail. She was only a few minutes behind them.

  Maybe that’s how the imp
s found us so easily, she wondered. Can they sense us like we sense each other? No, that’s impossible. Only pixies have that ability . . . as far as I know.

  Flurry frowned with the uncertainty as she rounded a familiar grove of ancient trees and looked at them wistfully. Who knew when she’d see them again? She had many great memories playing there when she was younger.

  The sense of the other pixies grew stronger, and Flurry veered right, toward the sea. As she approached some large trees, she suddenly swerved straight toward them and disappeared into a tiny crack in the bark, entering into a large chamber with dozens of pixies inside.

  The elder was laying Wix onto a cot, and another pixie was moving around him busily, wrapping his injuries and fussing about.

  Wix saw her and gave her a weak smile. At least they’d survived those two imps, thanks to Amber. Imps were one of the scariest things to a pixie. Larger creatures were too slow and clumsy to navigate the trees, and forest creatures were always quick to help. Only a smaller creature with the ability to fly and maneuver through branches could even come close. More importantly, imps seemed to be resistant to direct attacks from magic. And after the events of the day, it appeared they were excellent at tracking down pixies.

  Flurry found herself relaxing for the first time that day. They were definitely safe in this place. But what were they going to do next?

  As if on cue, one of the elders fluttered above the others, raised her hands, and mind-spoke to them all: Peace, my brothers and sisters.

  It was Molina, one of the wisest and bravest of her tribe. She floated gracefully in her neatly tailored white outfit, with hair nearly as white and a peace about her as if nothing were out of the ordinary. When the chamber quieted, she spoke out loud, “We have reason to believe the fires were caused by a phoenix. Our sister tribe has sent word.” She nodded to the elder pixie helping with Wix, and he nodded back.