“No,” Sieval replied after a moment. “I’m a sprite – one of the few left in the world.”
“Wait, wait, asprite?” Kieran said, his surprise growing by the moment. “I didn’t think there wereanyleft… well, it’s not that therearen’tany, it’s just that they’re so reclusive that no one ever sees them anymore.” He frowned. “How is it that you’ve come to be in my Uncle Henry’s attic? And was ityouwho was making all that noise?”
Sieval blinked its large, liquid eyes, seeming a little overwhelmed by all the questions – and again, Kieran couldn’t help but feel a little sympathetic for it. But hedidalso want answers.
It seemed completely outlandish to think that a sprite – of all creatures – could have somehow set up home in Great Uncle Henry’s attic, and, moreover, that it seemed to have beenfriendswith him. Kieran had had no memory of any such thing ever having happened during his childhood – there had never been any mysterious bangings or thuddings then.
“Perhaps…” Sieval said hesitantly, after a moment, “perhaps it’s best if I start at the beginning.”
Chapter 9
“Iagree, that would probably be best,” Kieran said, as Natasha glanced up at him from where she stood by his side.
She had to admit – she was impressed by how well she was taking all of this in stride, even if she did say so herself. Maybe everything would catch up with her soon – finding out, after all, that both griffinsandsprites existed on the same day was probably something that would take time to adjust to. But for now, she simply found herself nodding along with Kieran saying that they should listen to the sprite’s explanation for what it was doing in an attic.
Natasha was sure thatsoonshe was going to have a huge freakout about all this… but right now, she was cool with it. It really wasn’t the time to have a weird breakdown – and anyway, she had to admit, she was burning up with curiosity. The huge freakout could wait until she’d found out what exactly was going on around here.
“Should we stay up here, or… can we move down to the sitting room, where there’s less dust?” Kieran asked after a moment. “Uh… where would be the most comfortable place?”
“The sitting room is acceptable,” Sieval said. “But you will have to take my rock with you. I cannot carry it myself, but I also cannot move from here without it.”
“Your… your rock?” Kieran asked, confusion creasing his brow. “What do you mean?”
“All sprites are bonded to an object,” Sieval explained. “Where it goes, we go. But we cannot move it ourselves. We need someone to carry it for us.”
“Oh!” Kieran said, his face clearing. “I remember hearing something like that. Sprites tend to stay in one place, where whatever they’re bonded to is – in the folklore stories, they protect the area where their bonded object is very closely.” He frowned again. “But how did your rock get into my uncle’s attic?”
“If you help me, I’ll tell you everything,” Sieval said. “But first, please help me find my rock. I’m not able to lift anything to go through the boxes to find it.”
Kieran nodded. “All right. It’s somewhere up here, then?”
“Yes,” Sieval said. “In a box somewhere, I think.”
“I’ll help you look,” Natasha said – she had a feeling that if she was doing something with her hands, it’d help delay the inevitable freakout. For now, however, she was surprised at how calm she felt, as she and Kieran began pulling the dust sheets off the piles of boxes, sneezing and coughing as years’ worth of grime went sailing through the air.
Kieran looked across at her as they searched, opening box after box and pulling out all manner of old toys, trinkets, clothes, and various other items.
“Um. You doing okay?” he asked, as she pulled out what seemed to be an endless stream of old Christmas lights from one box. “I imagine this is… well, it must bea lot.”
“I think so?” Natasha said, hoping that it was true. “I mean… itisa lot, but right now… I don’t know. I think I’m more curious to find out what’s going to happen next than anything else. It’s like I’m reading a storybook, and I really want to get to the next page or something.”
Kieran let out a low laugh as he went through a box of old clothes. “That’s perhaps the best way to think of it for now. I admit, I’m kind of curious myself. Of all the things I thought we’d find up here, I never expected asprite.”
“Would ghosts have been better?” Natasha asked, which prompted a small laugh from him.
“I don’t know, honestly,” he replied after a moment. “At least Sieval seems friendly – who knows what ghosts might have been like?”
As he spoke, he pulled up an old, wooden box from the bottom of the larger cardboard box it had been packed away in, where it had been sitting beneath piles of clothes. Immediately, Sieval shimmered to his side, its eyes wide, its skin glowing with an unearthly blue light.
“My rock,” it breathed, sounding delighted. “You found it! It’s inside here!”
“In here?” Kieran asked, opening the lid of the wooden box. Inside, there was indeed a rock – shiny and black, like obsidian. Aside from its beauty, there didn’t seem to be anything particularly special about it – but, Natasha was coming to appreciate, there was a lot more than met the eye about seemingly ordinary things.
“Yes, yes, that’s it!” Sieval seemed overjoyed, clapping its hands lightly together. “Now that it’s been found, I promise I’ll tell you everything. Please, take me – and my rock – downstairs. We may speak there in more comfort.”
Sieval was right about that, Natasha thought, once the three of them were seated on the sofa chairs in the sitting room. Her nose was running and her eyes itching from all the dust they’d disturbed during their search, but at least the air down here was clearer, and the afternoon sunlight was streaming through the tall windows, unlike the dark stuffiness of the attic.
Kieran had placed the rock in its wooden box on the coffee table in front of them, and Sieval’s eyes kept traveling back to it as it spoke.
