01 Faery Rebels: Spell Hunter by R. J. Anderson

Author:R. J. Anderson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Social Issues, Magic, Juvenile Fiction, Fairies, Fantasy & Magic, Fiction, Interpersonal Relations, Fairy Tales, Supernatural, Conduct of Life, Fairy Tales & Folklore, General, Folklore & Mythology
ISBN: 9780061554742
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2009-04-19T05:00:00+00:00

“Wake up, you lazy—” Mallow’s heavy fist pounded on Knife’s door. “Do you hear me? Get up at once!”

Knife rolled over, groaning, and winced as the morning light struck her face. How long had she been asleep? All she knew was that it hadn’t been nearly long enough. “All right, I’m coming,” she mumbled as she dragged herself out of bed.

Mallow stood on the landing, arms folded and legs braced wide. “Do you know how late it is? While you’ve been lolling about, the rest of us are starving—or soon will be, if you don’t get yourself downstairs and do your duty!”

“Downstairs?” Knife regarded her blearily. “What for?”

“To guard the Gatherers, of course! After what happened to Linden, they won’t set foot out of the Oak without you, and they’ve been waiting since dawn—so you’d best hurry up, or I’ll report you to Her Majesty!”

That was the beginning of a long and unpleasant day. Exhausted as she was, Knife soon found that her weakened wings slowed her down even more. It was a struggle just leading the Gatherers across the field, and they had barely reached the wood when she had to sit down and rest. After a little while she mustered enough strength to try hunting, but her hands shook on the bow, and she wasted several arrows before bringing down her only prey of the morning—a scrawny young robin.

“A fine catch,” sneered Mallow when Knife brought the half-plucked carcass to the kitchen. “And I see you haven’t wasted any of your precious time dressing it either. Well, my proud lady, you’d best take out that fancy knife of yours and finish what you started, because it’s certainly not my business to do your work for you!”

Knife had no strength to argue, much less obey. Without a word she walked out, knowing that the other workers would be perfectly willing to clean and cut up the robin even if Mallow was not. But the Chief Cook had no intention of letting Knife escape so easily. She followed her all the way down the corridor and up the Spiral Stair, cursing her laziness and incompetence in tones loud enough to be heard all over the Oak. Not until they were nearly at Knife’s door did she run out of insults and huff back down to the kitchen again.

When she had gone Knife stopped and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. It would have been so easy to turn around and hit Mallow right in her smug face—but what good would that have done?

She tried to take another step, but her legs wobbled, and she had to sit down.

“Knife.”

She turned to see Valerian standing a couple of stairs above her, holding out a hand. Too tired to protest, she took it and let the Healer pull her to her feet.

“You need to rest,” said Valerian, and then to Knife’s surprise she added, “If Mallow should bring her complaint to the Queen, I will intercede for you.”

“It’s not your quarrel,” said Knife.

“No, but neither is it yours, for all that Mallow tries to make it so.

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