"It doesn't matter if you can feel or not, Mr. Weasley."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Looks are everything. If you're not normal, why should they care?"
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When Spring Hollow was silent, something was wrong. Lyra Mockburrow had never known any area of the tree filled space to be even remotely quiet. The Faerie Folk were mysterious and secretive, but once you found them in their own habitat the noises didn't cease. Now though, not even the birds that nested in the trees overhead made a single sound.
The older woman leaned against the walking stick in her left hand. This was what she got for visiting her grandchildren for a week. She had a million things that she now wasn't even remotely aware of.
"Lyra?"
The voice from her right startled her into dropping the notebook she held. She looked over and breathed a sigh of relief. A young, round face peeked up from the stream nearby.
"Serina. You scared me."
The young naiad placed her hands on the edge of the bank and lifted herself from the water. her gossamer slip shone in the moonlight, water sliding down it as though it was made of glass. The gills on her neck flapped open and closed a few times, and her liquid eyes looked at Lyra with a large, surprising range of emotions.
"Where have you been?" she demanded. Her voice carried the forced of a typhoon, and gargled and bubbled like a river crashing over boulders. Serina was quite terrifying without really trying, and the woman flinched at the force she carried.
"I-I had to take a holiday. My Granddaughter had a recital and my doctor said I needed to relax. Nothing I could do about it. What's going on? Why is it so...so quiet?"
"Hm. While you were 'on holiday' we've been forced to deal with real problems."
Lyra swallowed a little anxiously. Problems in the hollow could range from a Brownie infestation to a Falling taking place. It didn't take much to set off the nymphs and other faerie folk that inhabited the place. Serina could be talking about anything.
"What kind of problems?"
The naiad's gaze darkened and she lifted a delicate finger. The flesh was iridescent in the pale lighting of the night, and as she motioned for Lyra to draw nearer it left little spotlights on the forest floor. "Come and see for yourself."
Serina wasn't one to wait up for a follower, and Lyra soon found herself falling behind the quick footed nymph. All she could think of was what could possibly be wrong, and the worst possible scenarios kept running through her head. Dragons had been known to sneak on to the land and flambé the landscape. The sirens had been acting out lately, but they were not heading towards the lagoon. That was to the west, and they were heading north, towards the main grove. The trees were getting progressively darker and droopier, the leaves and stones on the path had been turned over and disturbed in a quick and desperate fashion. Lyra swallowed anxiously and tried to keep pace with the Naiad. None of the thoughts in her mind were anywhere near close to what actually awaited her.
