Arrow (Knife) by R. J. Anderson

Author:R. J. Anderson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781408313701
Publisher: Hachette Children's Books
Published: 2011-01-05T11:00:00+00:00

twelve

‘Then something wet slapped my leg, so I looked behind me,’ said Timothy, ‘and there’s Lydia in the bottom of the boat, struggling with this… fish.’ He flung his arms so wide he would have knocked over the water jug if Peri hadn’t caught it in time. ‘I’m not even exaggerating, it must have been half as big as she was. How she managed to catch it, I’ll never know. And then there’s me, with this—’

He held his fingertips about a hand’s width apart. Paul grinned, and Peri laughed. But Rhosmari was too distracted even to manage a smile.

Here she sat, eating the plainest meal of bread and meat and cheese, at a table so small that Timothy’s knee bumped hers on one side and the wheel of Paul’s chair boxed her in on the other. She was listening to three humans tell stories about places she had never been, people she had never met, and situations that had nothing to do with her – a kind of conversation that most faeries would find meaningless, if not rude. And now Timothy had just told them about a time when he had been made to look ridiculous by his little sister. How could she laugh without seeming to mock his failure?

But of course human ways were different from those of faeries; she had always known that, and no doubt she would get used to them in time. What troubled Rhosmari more was that in spite of the simple food, humble surroundings, and strange company, she was enjoying herself.

‘So that’s when I gave up fishing and decided to stick to the guitar.’ Timothy pulled the fruit bowl towards him and helped himself to another handful of grapes.

‘Well,’ said Paul, ‘we can’t all be multi-talented.’

Timothy snorted. ‘Says the professional artist with all the trophies for rowing and wheelchair rugby. Thanks a lot – oh, sorry.’ This last was to Rhosmari, who had flinched at the careless use of thanks. ‘For a minute I forgot you were a faery.’

‘I suspect she might not take that as a compliment, Tim,’ said Peri as she got up and began to clear the table. Timothy started to apologise again, but Peri interrupted, ‘And if you keep digging that hole, you’re going to fall into it. Why don’t you take Rhosmari over to the Oak?’

‘Right. Yes. I’d just better get rid of this…’ Timothy shoved his hand into his right pocket, and slapped a tangle of iron and leather onto the table. ‘Coming, Rhosmari?’

Compared to the neglected grounds of Waverley Hall, the back garden at Oakhaven was a work of horticultural art, its lawn edged with neat flowerbeds and hedges squared to perfection. There were a few trees, too, some just beginning to bloom – but still, it was hard for anything to compare with the leafless majesty of the Oak. Seen close at hand, its bulk was even more daunting, and as Rhosmari followed Timothy out the glass door at the back of the house, she was glad that she would not have to enter the great tree alone.

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