Silverkith(Another book to write later)

Prologue

Bryan could not sleep.

The moonlight pouring in through the window illuminated the entire room. Bryan’s older brother lay unmoving on his own bed, his steady breathing—a usually comforting sound—was tonight unbearably irritating. Or perhaps it was the brightness of the full moon that would not allow Bryan rest. He got up, touching his feet reluctantly to the chilly floor. Bryan tiptoed past Seth’s bed to the window, and pressed his forehead against the cold glass for a moment.

Outside, the town and forest were still, awash in blue-white glow and black shadows. Bryan gazed up at the cloudless winter sky. All his life he had loved the stars. Now, at twelve, he still felt a sense of wonder whenever he contemplated those tiny points of brilliance. Bryan’s breath misted on the glass, blurring his view. He reached for the curtains to draw them closed.

Something bright caught his eye, near the trees—something that moved. There it was again. Bryan scrubbed at the foggy window with his sleeve, trying to wipe away the moisture. Peering out, he saw a small, pale form slipping in and out of the shadows at the forest’s edge.

“Seth!” Bryan yelped. “Wake up! There’s something out there!”

Bryan’s older brother turned over. “Go back to sleep, you little nuisance,” he groaned.

“No, really, Seth! Come look! Quick!”

“Shut it, Bryan. You’re just dreaming.”

Bryan gave up on his brother and pressed his nose to the window, holding his breath. The figure paused. It was a girl with dark hair, wearing a long blue tunic. Her skin was whiter than that of any person Bryan had seen. As the girl disappeared once more among the shadows and did not reappear, Bryan wondered why she was out on a winter night with no shoes or cloak.

“She must be freezing,” said the boy to himself, and rubbed away the new fog on the glass. Perhaps she was a ghost. Bryan swallowed hard. Ghosts need have no fear of cold. With that terrifying thought taking root in his imagination, Bryan jerked the curtains closed. He hurried back to his bed and pulled the cold covers over his head.



Each night after that, Bryan’s curiosity overcame his terror and he found himself standing for many minutes, shivering, by the cold window, searching for the ghost of a girl. None of his family or friends believed Bryan when he told them of the pale child. Even his older sister, Elianne, who did not usually doubt Bryan’s word, thought it more likely he had been half-asleep and imagining things.

But when night after night Bryan waited in vain, he began to doubt himself. Suppose it really had been just his imagination after all. Or, even if the white girl was real, what reason was there to think she would return? Eventually, Bryan ceased his nightly vigil.

Still, when the moon was once again full, something made him arise from bed and go to the window. There she stood, pallid, and real, looking at the town.

Without pausing to think, Bryan tugged on his boots and hurried from the room. He crept quietly down the stairs and out the front door. The cold night air slapped his face and bare arms as he pounded down the street toward the forest.

Bryan skidded to a halt as he rounded the last house and the girl came into view. She whirled to face him, and for one moment her startled eyes met his. Bryan’s blood chilled at the sight of her wide, silver irises. Then she fled, and Bryan’s wonder took hold of him again; he chased after.

He crashed through ferns and brambles, following the brief glimpses of brightness as she flashed through beams of moonlight that shot down through the dark branches. Something about the way she ran—like a frightened rabbit fleeing for its life—made Bryan call out to her.

“Wait! Please! I won’t hurt you!”

She stopped and faced him, but stood tense, poised to spring away again. Bryan, panting, leaned against a tree to catch his breath, and studied her peculiar features. The girl’s skin was lily-white, her nose small and straight. Her eyes were large, the pupils impossibly dilated and full of fear as she, in turn, examined Bryan. Short, tousled hair framed her face, as dark as moonless night, contrasting sharply with her face. She looked to be about Bryan’s age, or younger perhaps, because she was quite small. And, as the first time Bryan had seen her, the girl wore no shoes or cloak, only a long blue tunic.

“What—who are you?” asked Bryan between gulps of air.

The question seemed to confuse her. “My name is Tress,” she said, her voice hushed with fright.

“Are you a ghost?” Bryan asked, more convinced than ever, because the girl was obviously not human. He shivered, cold and suddenly afraid.

“Of course I’m not a ghost. What—what do you want?”

Bryan took a step toward her, hand outstretched. Tress flinched away, but did not flee.

“Please,” said Bryan soothingly, as he would speak to a frightened animal, “I just want to know what you are.” He advanced another step.

“Stay back!” shouted Tress, alarmed.

Bryan, his teeth chattering from the cold, took one final step and touched his fingers to Tress’s bare upper arm. Her skin was warm.

As quick as thought, the girl sprang away and Bryan was seized from behind. In panic Bryan fought back against his assailants, discovering himself clutched by writhing blackberry vines. Sobbing with terror and bewilderment and pain from innumerable thorn scratches, he cried out to the now empty forest, “Help! Tress! Come back!”

Bryan stayed there, trembling and weeping in the dark, until he could no longer bear the biting cold. He struggled free of the brambles and wandered miserably back to the town, returning to his room and his bed. He lay for a time, dreading the morning and the trouble he would be in when his parents found him thus scratched and dirty.

Bryan fell asleep at last with Tress’s perfect, white face before his mind’s eye.

Chapter 1

“Please, Auro. Let’s just go back. This is a stupid idea.”

“Aww, come on. You’ll love it, Tress.”

“No, I won’t.”

“How can you know if you’ve never seen it?”

Tress didn’t answer.  She had seen the human town. Eight years ago. She had sworn to herself she would never return.

Under the bright gibbous moon Tress and Auro made their way through the forest. They had already passed the boundary they were not supposed to cross. Tress shot Auro an irritated glance, but knew that pointing out such a fact would not make him change his mind. The pair had been friends for most of their lives. When Auro got an idea into that silver-haired head of his, he would not let trivial things like rules stop him.

“There it is,” said Auro, pointing to the wood and stone structures visible through the trees ahead.

Tress halted. “Great. Can we leave now?” She tapped her foot, masking her fear with impatience.

“Sure, right after we steal some sheep.” Auro grinned. Seeing Tress’s frown he added: “It’s perfectly safe. You know all humans sleep at night. We’ll only take one sheep. Come on, I know where they keep them.”

“What! How often do you come here, Auro? Nevermind. Don’t answer that.”

He grinned again.

Tress sighed, and dug her fingers into her dark hair. “We are not going to steal sheep, Auro. Idiot ideas like that are the reason we aren’t supposed to go near humans. They know sheep don’t disappear on their own.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Auro said, rolling his eyes. “But let’s not go back quite yet.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I did want to talk to you,” said Auro, his playful tone suddenly gone….