“Put your foot down,” he muttered, worried. “That’s not right.”
David drove hurriedly down the overgrown drive.
As they came out onto the lawns he gave a gasp, and Jake flung the door open and leaped out, his heart thudding, all calm gone, because surely that glimmer was made by the Shee and that must mean they were back and—
He hurtled around a tree and stopped, staring.
The lawns were hung with soft blue lights, like lanterns. In the house were hundreds of tiny movements and glints and glimmers, flitting shapes, a face with silver hair appearing briefly at a window, a flock of starlings on a chimney.
Venn and Sarah were standing outside, watching. Jake raced across to them. “What’s happening?”
Venn smiled, sour. “They’re tidying up.”
Piers came down the steps with a rug, shook it, grinned, and went back in.
“Piers? Or the Shee?”
“Summer seems to have given orders.” As he said it a window opened by itself above, and a great cloud of the green dust was hurled out, billowing into the air.
Sarah giggled. “Brushes and brooms and all sorts of things. But they seem to be making more mess than ever.”
As she said it a door opened and a thin figure came out, walking quickly toward them. Gideon wore his green frock-coat. There was dust in his hair, and his skin was pale under the moon. He came and stood in front of them, hands in pockets, and his eyes were green and distracted.
“Don’t forget me,” he said
Sarah said, “You don’t have to do this.”
“Call it my sacrifice. It’s been good being a mortal. It’s made me remember myself. But . . . maybe I’ve been with them too long to stop now.”
“They don’t have time,” Jake said “So how . . .”
Gideon shrugged. “I know what I mean.” He turned and walked through the long grass of the lawn toward the Wood. “If you call, I’ll come. If she lets me.”
He raised a hand. Sarah shook her head; Jake frowned.
“You’re not Shee,” he said with sudden fury. “You’re one of us. Don’t forget that.”
Gideon nodded. “Maybe.”
Then he was only a shadow among shadows.
And then nothing at all.
About the Author
CATHERINE FISHER is a critically acclaimed author and poet and was named the first Young People’s Laureate for Wales. She graduated from the University of Wales with a degree in English and a fascination for myth and history, and has worked in education and archaeology and as a lecturer in creative writing. Her genre-busting novels, like the New York Times bestselling Incarceron and Sapphique, have given her the reputation of being “one of today’s best fantasy writers,” as noted by the London Independent. Ms. Fisher lives in Wales in the United Kingdom.
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Catherine Fisher, The Door in the Moon
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