The three of them crouched in the bushes behind Argan’s house.
“Do you think they will leave?” Seth whispered.
“No,” Argan answered flatly.
Seth sat down in the dirt and crossed his legs. “So what do we do?”
Sepheira looked through the bushes at a small, fat male faery barking out orders to the others. “We go to the Cove,” she said.
“What’s the cove?” Seth asked. His eyes were staring up at the trees above him, crowding his view of the sky. He thought he had seen movement, but it was probably just the wind.
“The cove,” Sepheira said, keeping her gaze on the fat faery, “is where the other rebels are. It will be the safest place for us all. At least, until they find it.”
“Does that mean they are looking for it?” Argan asked.
“They will eventually. It’s only a matter of time.” She sat back hesitantly, not wanting to tear her gaze away from the awful scene at Argan’s cabin.
Argan turned his view to his right. “Did you hear that?”
Seth jumped to his feet in a panic. “Hear what?!”
Sepheira grabbed his left wrist roughly and yanked him back down. “If you don’t stay down and shut up, the faeries will be the ones hearing things,” she growled close to his face.
Seth slowly removed his wrist from her grip as a feeling began to bubble in his stomach - a feeling he had never felt before. “Sure,” he said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his voice was much deeper. “Sure thing.” He looked briefly at Sepheira and then back up to the trees. “Uh, is that what you heard?” He asked, pointing above him.
Sepheira and Argan followed Seth’s gaze. There were at least eight faeries, no larger than lawn gnomes, hanging from the trees above them. Their beedie yellow eyes stared down at the three of them.
“Run!” Sepheira screamed.
Seth didn’t hesitate. He was the first out of the bushes and sprinting through the woods.
Argan and Sepheira weren’t far behind him, but neither were the faeries.
