Lark and the Wild Hunt by Jennifer Adam

Author:Jennifer Adam
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-04-19T00:00:00+00:00

Eighteen

Music and Mayhem

THERE WAS A moment of silence, a collective gasp, and then the bearded merchant cursed, “Rust and ruin! I had important negotiations to conclude!”

“Do you think all the Fae have gone? Perhaps we should send everyone home, just to be safe. . . .” Ma suggested, ignoring his selfish outrage.

Elder Farstorm frowned at him before turning back to the others. “Let’s check the festival meadow and the town square to evaluate the situation before we—”

A rising sound interrupted her.

Thump ba-boom, thump ba-boom. The evening breeze carried a clear drumbeat. Another drum, deeper and more resonant, picked up a low pulse. Boom-boom, boom-boom.

A scream shivered through the air, echoed by eerie horn blasts rising like howls over the background drumbeat and fiddle music.

“Sounds like trouble,” Davina Wardspin said, racing toward the noise with the other luckwitches.

“What in the stars?” Elder Brassman cried, and they all rushed to follow.

Torchlight leaped and flickered in the evening breeze, casting strange shadows over the festival meadow. It was hard for Lark to see what was happening, but Sage suddenly cried, “Brendan?”

Lark squinted in the direction of her gaze and spotted Blunderknuckles Forth. He ran past them, frantically playing a fiddle with flushed cheeks and a sweat-damp curl stuck to his forehead. As he ran, he jerked his knees in an odd dance.

“Help me!” he shouted, spinning in a lopsided circle before jogging down the road.

“I didn’t know Blunderknuckles played the fiddle,” Lark said, alarmed at the sight.

“He doesn’t.” Sage frowned. “It’s a Fae trick. It has to be. We need to stop him!”

“I’ll fetch a luckwitch,” Ma said. “If I can figure out where they went. Follow him and make certain he doesn’t hurt himself.”

Sage was already hurrying to catch him, and Da ran after her. Lark accompanied Ma. Musicians scattered around the meadow and into the square were all playing at once and a wild, random cacophony of jigs, reels, and ballads filled the air. Blunderknuckles wasn’t the only one caught in the enchantment, Lark realized as a luckwitch rushed toward a woman who had just collapsed on the ground, dropping a slender flute as she fell. Beside her a Fae continued playing his fiddle, laughter stretching his moss-colored face.

“The luckwitches are already doing their best,” Lark pointed out. “Maybe we need to find the healer instead.”

She had noticed a woman wearing a crimson gown and golden slippers dancing in a small clearing amid the crowd. Something in the woman’s posture—back rigid, arms stiff, muscles quivering—didn’t seem quite right and her flashing feet moved quicker than Lark thought possible.

The dancer started spinning. Fast, and then faster. Her skirts swirled out like the petals of a flower, revealing green leggings underneath. Golden hair laced with silver threads of age spun in a halo around her white, frightened face. A slow scream rose in her throat like the cry of a wounded deer.

Red stains seeped through her velvet slippers as she danced her feet to blisters and blood.

The Fae only laughed.

“They’re toying with us,” Ma said grimly.

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