Moonkind (Winterling) Read Free Page A

but if the High Ones had sent messengers . . . something was wrong.
    She stepped past Gnar and Lich to the fire. The night air had an edge of frost in it, and the warmth from the flames felt good against her bare legs. Overhead in the Lady Tree, the Lady’s bees, whose buzzing speech only she could understand, hovered in a sleepy cloud. The rest of the land’s people, she sensed, were asleep.
    “All well, Ladyfer?” Fray asked quietly. That’s what the people of the Summerlands called her now— Ladyfer . It was better than Lady Gwynnefar , anyway.
    “I hope so, Fray,” Fer answered, and held her hands up to warm them.
    Lich and Gnar joined her. Gnar stood so close to the fire, she was practically in the flames. Lich stood a few steps back, and Fer saw steam rising up around him. “What do the High Ones want?” Fer asked.
    “They ask you to come to the nathe, Lady Gwynnefar,” Lich answered.
    “The High Ones don’t show it,” Gnar said, “but we know they are worried. You started something.”
    “A change,” Lich put in.
    Gnar nodded. “A change, yes. And now you need to see it through.” The fire-girl leaned closer, and Fer saw the flames deep in her eyes. “They want to speak with you. They won’t force you to leave your land, but you need to come. Will you, Lady? Will you come?”

Three
    This Way was open only at midnight and for a short time after that; at all other times it was closed, like a locked door. Rook caught a glimpse of white teeth flashing in his brother-puck Tatter’s dark face as he grinned.
    “It’s time,” Tatter said. “Let’s go.”
    The moonlight shone down and the Way opened. Rook stepped into it with his brothers. Every Way was different; going through this Way felt like being stabbed with daggers made of ice. He was shivering by the time he stumbled out the other side.
    “All right, Pup?” Asher asked.
    His teeth chattering, Rook nodded. His brothers had a plan. They hadn’t told him exactly what it was, but it would bring trouble to those who deserved it, so he would help them see it through.
    He stepped up to stand shoulder to shoulder with his brothers, surveying the land they’d entered. They stood on bare rock that gleamed under the light of the heavy, low-hanging full moon. The rock was like a plain, seamed here and there with cracks. Nothing grew here, not even lichen. The air felt dry and dead.
    “We don’t have much time before the Way closes again,” Asher said, and in the cold air a cloud of steam puffed out with his words. “Come on. We go toward the moon.”
    They shifted into their dog shapes and padded over the rock. Rook sniffed with his dog nose, but the air smelled like nothing but dust and chill. After a long run, he saw something gleaming in the distance. As they got closer, he saw a spire of rock like a finger pointing at the moon. The spire was tall—as tall as a pine tree. Spread all around it was something that glistened under the moonlight, like cloth made of diamonds, or silver nets, or like . . .
    Spiderwebs?
    As his brothers slowed, Rook did too, and then spat out his shifter-tooth, catching it in his hand and stowing it in the pocket of his ragged shorts.
    A glittering web stretched from the top of the rock-spire to the ground. In the middle of the web was a huge spider. It was as big as a horse, but the web didn’t sag under its weight. Its body was clear, as if it were made of glass. The moon shone into it, Rook saw, and the spider spun out shimmering lengths of thread made of moonlight. The spider’s eight legs were long and spindly, and click-clack ed as it deftly drew the strands of moonlight out of itself and wove them into its web. All around it, flowing out from the stone spire, more web lapped up to the pucks’ feet like a gleaming sea.
    It reminded him of something. But what ?
    He must’ve looked confused. Asher spoke, his voice harsh in the silence. “It’s glamorie, Pup.”
    Rook blinked and looked again. Ash was