They set off into the moonlit wood, Puck leading the way with Cordelia right behind him on her unicorn. Kelly brought up the rear, on its rump. "Wherefore," said he, "should I then walk?"
"And thou hast the gall to excoriate me for lack of industry," Puck snorted.
But half an hour into the woods, the unicorn suddenly stopped, lifting her head and looking off toward the east.
Geoffrey frowned. "What ails her?"
"I think that she doth hear summat that we cannot." Puck cupped his ear, listening. Then he shook his head. "An she doth, it escapes me quite. What sayest thou, Horseface?"
"A moment, while I boost amplification." Fess lifted his head, ears turned in the direction the unicorn was pointing. "I do hear cries. They are very high-pitched, and faint with distance."
" 'High-pitched'?" Puck scowled. "And of interest to a unicorn? That hath the sound of Wee Folk in need of aid. Come, children! Let us seek!"
The children didn't need persuading.
They wound through the woods for half an hour, with Puck dodging around the roots of shrubs and through gaps in the underbrush, and Fess following him, to beat down a path. Behind him came the unicorn, with her nostrils flaring, and white showing all around her eyes.
Finally, the children could hear the cries too. They were very high, as Fess had said, and sounded very distressed. As they came closer, the children could understand the words: "A rescue! A rescue!"
"Help us! Aid, good folk!"
"There is, at least, no present danger," Cordelia said. "There's unhappiness in those words, but no great fear."
"Then let us find them ere it comes," Magnus said.
"'Tis here!" Puck cried.
The children stopped, startled, for the voices had still been so faint that they had thought them some distance away. But Puck dove into the underbrush almost under Fess's nose and started pulling back branches. The unicorn let out a musical neigh and pushed forward, pawing at the bushes and fallen leaves. Between them, they uncovered a small iron cage, with two foot-high people in it. They were clothed in green, the one decorated with flowers, the other with red, yellow, and orange leaves. They looked up with children's faces, and cried with delight when they saw the unicorn.
" 'Tis one of the Silver People!"
"Greeting, Velvet One! What good chance brings thee?"
The unicorn whickered softly, butting her nose against the cage.
"She wants them out." Cordelia knelt by the cage, and the two fairies fell silent, staring up at her, wide-eyed. "Oh, fear me not! I wish thee no hurt!"
"'Tis but a lass," the flowered one said to her sister, in a high, clear voice.
"Aye! A bairn would not wish us ill!" The leafy one turned back to Cordelia. "I am Fall, and here is my sister, Summer."
Summer dropped a curtsy. She was chubby and ruby-cheeked, with a smile that seemed as though it could never fade.
"I am Cordelia." The girl bobbed her head in lieu of a curtsy, since she was already kneeling. "What is this horrid contrivance that houses thee?"
"Why, 'tis a rabbit's trap." Puck sauntered up. "How now, sprites! What coneys art thou, to be caught in so rude a snare?"
"As much as thou art a lob, to stand there and jibe without loosing us," Fall retorted. She was slender and supple, with short-cropped brown hair.
"A hare was caught within," Summer explained. "We could hear its frantic thumpings, and we took sticks to pry the door up and free it."
"Most kindly done." Puck grinned. "And did it lock thee in, for thanks?"
"Nearly," Fall confessed. "We held up the door, and the hopper thumped on out—but as it fled, one great hind foot caught me in the middle, and sent me sprawling. My sister could not keep the door up alone."
"It crashed down on me, most shrewdly," Summer sighed, "and we were trapped within."
"But what manner of trap is this, that can hold a fairy?" Cordelia asked.
"One of Cold Iron," Puck snorted. "What fools were they, to risk such capture!"
"And what a knob art thou, to stand and mock us!" Fall jammed her tiny fists on her hips, glaring at him.
'Truly, Puck!" Cordelia reproached him. "'Tis most unkind of thee! Hast thou no care for others' feelings?"
"Why, none! Or canst thou truly believe that they'd be thereby injured?"
"Nay, certes they would! Unkind words too oft give hurt!"
"Nay, not to mem. Say, ask!"
Cordelia turned a questioning glance on the two fairies.
A slow, grudging grin grew on Fall's face. "I cannot deny it. His teasing doth not trouble me."
"Nor I," her sister smiled, "so long as we may chide him in return."
"As bad as children," Cordelia proclaimed with every ounce of her ten-year-old dignity.
"And as careless of time as a grown-up." Geoffrey frowned, glancing about him. "Whosoe'er set this trap, will shortly come to search it. Ought we not to set them free?"
"Aye, at once!" Cordelia fumbled with the trap. "Yet how doth it open?"
"Ye've but to lift," Geoffrey snorted. He knelt down, pressed a catch, and lifted the door. The two fairies darted out and swirled up into the air on gossamer wings, caroling with joy. "Free! Free!"
"Ah, the blessed air!"
"And the cursed Cold Iron." Puck glowered at the trap. "How comes this, elf? Must the folk of thy woods forever be using traps of steel?"
"Nay, or the Wee Folk would torment them sore." Kelly stumped up beside him, glowering at the cage. "Our trappers here use wooden boxes when they wish to take their prey alive, or, if they do not, then snares of cord that slay in a moment."
"Then there's a hunter newly come unto thy woods," Puck said grimly, "or an old one who's taken up new ways." He turned to Summer and Fall. "Ward thee, fairies—for I misdoubt me an some souls do be preaching disregard of Wee Folk unto all the parish."
"And disregard of animals' suffering," Kelly agreed. "Beware—mayhap more traps of iron dot yer forest."
"An they do, they'll be quickly buried," Fall promised.
"Never fear—we'll broadcast word," Summer affirmed. "And we thank thee, mortals." She dropped a curtsy to Geoffrey and Cordelia. "We owe thee favor now."
Cordelia exchanged an excited glance with Geoffrey. To have fairies owing them favors!
"If ever thou hast need," Fall agreed, "only call, anywhere throughout this Isle of Gramarye, and Wee Folk will fly to aid thee."
"That doth not mean their aid will suffice." Puck fixed the children with a gimlet glare. "Thou shouldst not therefore court danger."
"Be sure, we'll not," Cordelia said, round-eyed.
Puck didn't say a word; he only bent a stern glance on Geoffrey.
The boy glared back at him, then looked away, then back again. "Oh, as thou wilt have it! Nor will I court danger, neither!"
"'Tis well." Puck nodded, satisfied, and turned back to Summer and Fall. "But we will seek. Some mortal doth speak for Cold Iron in the elves' demesne—and that we'll not abide. Nay, we must seek him out, and school him. Children, come!"
He turned, striding off through the forest.
The children stared at his upright, determined back in total surprise. Then Geoffrey grinned and started after the elf.
Magnus looked down at Gregory, then grinned and hoisted the little boy to ride before him. Gregory squealed with delight and thumped his heels against Fess's sides. The great black beast seemed to sigh.
Cordelia followed all of them on her unicorn, singing softly, "A-hunting we will go, a-hunting we will go…"