Sprite

In the summer of her twelfth year Norah was finally allowed to go home for a visit. She had mixed feelings about it, because it meant she would have to leave Roselle, her steady friend all through the summer months she spent at Grandfather’s, and Will, who continued to befriend both girls, although only Norah was privy to his secret.

“Listen for word of the sprites, but don’t be obvious about it,” Will advised her. He sat on the edge of her bed as she put the things she would be taking into a small suitcase. No one knew Will was here. He had become adept at climbing through her bedroom window, both here at Grandfather’s house, and at the room she shared with Roselle at school.

Rumors abounded in Datro about sprites, lots of them, running wild through the dark woods wreaking havoc on hunters and mutants alike. Will was sure his Sprite was among them. He insisted the sprites were trying to help the changelings, not harm them, as Norah’s grandfather and his cohorts proclaimed.

“How am I supposed to do that?” Norah frowned as she packed her razor in its little jewelry box and put it in the bottom of her case. “I’m going with Grandfather. I doubt he’ll let me out of his sight.”

“Just keep your ears open. Grown-ups talk. You might hear something worthwhile.”

Will, at sixteen, was tall and gangly. He was already older than a lot of the changelings at Norah’s grandfather’s factory—Norah’s factory, really, as John Hanan’s blood relative. It wouldn’t be long before the authorities found some excuse to blame Will for breaking the law, and then legally got rid of him. Will planned to be long gone before that happened.

“I will, if you promise to behave yourself and not take foolish chances.” Norah softened her words with a smile. She worried Will would get caught all the time, yet she couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing him anymore.

Will grinned broadly. “I’ll be all right,” he said. “Me and Roselle won’t do anything foolish until you come back.”

Norah’s smile faltered. She loved Roselle, and she loved Will, too, but sometimes she felt like the odd man out. “Oh, good,” she said, quickly turning away so Will wouldn’t notice her reaction. She wondered why Will entrusted her with his secret plans when it was Roselle he really cared about. Will didn’t know Norah was a changeling, too. Was it because she had approached him that first summer—or was it because she was Alan Avery’s granddaughter and Will was just using her to get information? Angrily, she shoved another dress into her suitcase, punching it down when it wouldn’t fit easily.

She heard Will come up behind her. “Be a good girl,” he said, patting her head. “You’ll be back before you know it.” She jerked away from him, and Will’s hand got caught in her braid, pulling it loose from around her head. He moved closer, turning her to face him. “What’s this?” He fingered the tiny, raised lines behind her ear.

“It’s nothing,” Norah quickly replied, rewrapping her braid so that it covered the spot. She had one on the other side, too. They appeared right behind the spot where wispy fins grew to frame her ears whenever she went underwater. Unlike the fins and the rest of her webbing, however, the small lines would not come off. There was nothing to cut away, so Norah hid them with her braids.

Will gave her a piercing look. “You haven’t been trying to shave, have you?”

Norah’s face heated up. “Of course not! It’s just a little rash. It’ll go away.”

Still looking concerned, Will relented. “Oh, all right. Take care of yourself. I’ll see you soon.” He hopped up onto the windowsill and disappeared into the night, leaving Norah sighing after him.

She touched the lines on both sides of her neck, running her fingers lightly over them. When she moved her fingers backwards, the lines felt rougher, deeper. She smoothed them the other way and rearranged her hair over them.

This time, the trip through the forest was much quieter. Her grandfather took just a small wagon, with only enough supplies for the two of them and the two guards he brought with them. Instead of seeking out the well-traveled roads, they took darker, narrower paths and avoided the well-established roadside rest stops they had used the last time. Norah was reminded of her trip through the forest with her father, who had also avoided the main ways, though not for the same reasons.

“The sprites target supply convoys and large groups,” her grandfather explained, then quickly backtracked. “It’s not that we’re afraid of them. I just don’t want any trouble while you’re with me. They’re dangerous and unpredictable. We’ll get them yet. There are groups of hunters out there on the lookout for signs of the sprites. They can’t avoid capture forever. In the meantime, we’ll take the lesser known route and avoid them altogether.”

On the first night, they stopped by a river so they could replenish their water for themselves and their animals. Norah squatted by the bank, tucking her skirt underneath her legs so it wouldn’t get wet. The river looked so inviting. She stretched out her hand, intending only to touch her fingertips to the cool water so there would be no chance of causing her webbing to grow.

“What are you doing! Get away from there!” One of the guards stood by the wagon, motioning for Norah to come to him. “There could be sprites in that water!”

Norah backed away, but she looked at the river thoughtfully. “Have you seen one?” she asked the guard, coming back to the makeshift campsite they had set up a few yards away from the riverbank. “A sprite?”

The guard shook his head. He was only a few years older than Will, but he carried his gun as if he knew how to use it. “I heard about ’em, though,” he said. “They’ll pull you under the water and drown you if you get too close.”

Norah didn’t think that would be much of a problem for her, but she refrained from saying so.

Her grandfather looked sternly at the talkative guard. “Stop scaring her,” he said. “Just because we are near water doesn’t mean there are sprites nearby.”

A commotion further up the path made both guards spring to attention, guns pointed outward. It wasn’t quite dark yet, and although this was a seldom used path, it was still a path. Alan Avery held up a hand for them to wait.

Soon, a group of weary hunters came into view, hauling a squirming, spitting creature between them. When they spotted Alan’s group, they halted, clearly surprised to see travelers on this stretch of road.

“What have you got there?” Alan called. His two guards remained at attention, but pointed their guns towards the forest floor.

The leader of the hunter group called back. “Stay clear. We have a mutant, one of those sprites. We don’t want him too close to the water, but we need to drink. We’ll make our camp over here.” He pointed to a spot a slight distance away. “We’ll be on our way at first light.” The man, with a grizzled beard and missing teeth, spotted Norah and smiled. “Don’t worry, miss. It’s perfectly safe. He can’t hurt you.”

Norah looked at the creature, who continued to twist and kick, even though the two men holding him were easily twice his size. One of them cuffed him on the side of his head, and he sagged back for a moment before renewing his efforts. This was a sprite? He didn’t look much older than she was. He certainly wasn’t green, although his long hair was slicked back from his face. She took a quick glance at his hands but she couldn’t determine if they were webbed or not. He snarled, and she involuntarily stepped back.

The hunters dragged their captive to the place where they intended to make camp and bound him with heavy rope before they went down to the river to refill their water. The sprite glared sullenly across the clearing to where Norah and her party ate their supper around a small campfire.

Later, Norah’s grandfather walked over to the hunter’s camp to discuss the situation. Norah wanted to come, but he wouldn’t hear of it. “It’s bad enough that mutant is over there,” he argued. “I will not have you exposed to that. You’ll stay here.”

Norah strained her ears, trying for Will’s sake to hear what they were saying. It was too far; she shouldn’t have heard anything, certainly no more than faint murmurs of sound, but she caught a few words here and there. Enough to give her a picture of what had probably happened.

The sprite was not alone, originally. A group of sprites, fierce, nasty creatures to hear the hunters tell it, had been harrying the hunters all afternoon, swooping down to throw rocks at them, or steal their belongings when they were distracted. The sprites had managed to free the small group of captive mutants the hunters had gathered over the past few days. As usually happened, the main group of sprites melted away into the forest with the captive mutants, but one of them, a decoy perhaps, remained behind to take the hunters’ attention off the others. He thought he was so smart, but he miscalculated. The river he had intended to use for his escape was well-known to this group of hunters. The sprite jumped in and swam underwater for as long as he could, but eventually he had to come up for air, and when he did, the hunters were there waiting for him.

Norah blinked, and she lost the thread of conversation she had been following. Suddenly, she couldn’t hear anything anymore. The sprite had to come up for air? A part of her was disappointed. This sprite wasn’t like her, either. Maybe there was no one else like her. Still, he was a water creature.

She waited until everyone was asleep, even the guard who was supposed to be on watch. Norah’s stealth skills had improved tremendously since she’d met Roselle and Will. She had no trouble creeping over to the other camp. Their guard was still awake, although not particularly alert. Norah skirted behind him and made her way over to the tied-up sprite. The boy was awake, too. He stared at her from his position on the ground, bound hand and foot, and gagged as well. Norah deftly removed the gag, then went to work on slicing through the thick ropes with her razor. It took a while, but eventually the ropes slid off. Still not speaking, she pulled the boy’s hand, noting that he really didn’t have any webbing, and led him silently out of the camp.

When they were far enough away from both camps that no one could hear them, Norah whispered, “You’re free now. Go, quickly! The river’s that way!”

The boy was no taller than she was, but nut brown from the sun, or was it a slight covering of hair? Norah sucked in a surprised breath when she noticed the small tail sticking out from the shorts which were his only clothing. He stared at her again, looking her up and down as if searching for something. Then he nodded, and sprinted off, in the opposite direction of the river.

Norah crept back to her bedding and tried to sleep. So far, none of the guards had noticed. She grinned to herself in satisfaction. Will was going to be surprised when she told him she had met a real live sprite. If that’s what he truly was.

The next morning, Norah awoke to the panicked cries of the hunters in the other camp. “He’s gone!”

Her grandfather was furious. “How could you let this happen?” he demanded. “Now none of us will be safe!”

“No,” the leader of the hunters insisted. “We took him far from his regular territory. He won’t stay here.”

“Can you guarantee that?” Alan asked angrily. “Who will protect my granddaughter on the rest of our journey? You?”

“Yes. We will accompany you as far as you need to travel. This was our fault.” He eyed the cut ends of the rope that had held their captive sprite. “He must have had a hidden weapon.”

“He could have murdered you all—all of us!” Alan Avery stomped away, but he didn’t refuse the hunters’ offer of help. There were still two more days of traveling on this route. Anything could happen.

Norah knew the sprite was following them. He kept well to the rear of their party, but he watched them. She wondered why he wasn’t fleeing, as the hunters had promised he would. Did he want to get caught again? When she could, she stepped away from their group, ostensibly for a little privacy. She had to tolerate one of the guards accompanying her, but just as far as the nearest bush. “Stay there,” she ordered the flustered guard. “I don’t want you listening while I pee.”

As soon as she was alone, she struck out for the spot she knew the sprite would be hiding. “Why are you following us?” she whispered, startling the young sprite so badly that he fell over backwards in the dirt. Norah giggled.

“Why did you free me?” the boy countered, standing up. He whispered, also, keeping one eye out for her guard, who waited where Norah had left him.

Norah rolled her eyes. “Why? I can’t stand to see anyone held against his will. Besides, you’re helping the changelings, aren’t you?”

The boy just looked at her, not answering, until Norah felt uncomfortable. “Oh, I don’t mean me,” she said, finally realizing he thought she was a changeling herself. She was, but that wasn’t why she had set him free. “I know a boy. A changeling. He’s my friend.”

The sprite suddenly grinned. “I get it now. What’s his name? I’ll tell my friends to keep an eye out for him.”

“His name is Will,” Norah said. Her face paled. “Hurry, you’ve got to get out of here. The guard is coming!”

The sprite gave her a strange look, but he took her word for it. “Tell him to ask after Pup if ever he makes it to the forest!” he said, as he took off again. This time, he headed for the distant river, and Norah heard the splash as he dove in, although she was pretty sure her guard hadn’t heard it.

“I told you to wait over there,” she said grumpily, making a show of straightening out her skirt.

The young guard turned bright red, and mumbled something about how long she was gone, and he had thought she might be in danger.

“Yeah, right,” she grumbled, pushing past him. Maybe the other boy with the strange name, Pup, was really a sprite after all. She hoped so.