Chapter 1

The Ironwood Tree Book four of five.

Chapter One IN WHICH There Is Both a Fight and a Duel The engine of the station wagon was already running. Mallory leaned against the door, her everyday sneakers grungy against the bright white of her long fencing socks. Her hair was gelled and pulled back into a ponytail so tight that it made her eyes bulge. Mrs. Grace stood on the driver's side, her hands on her hips. "I found him!" Jared panted, running up to join them.

"Simon," their mother called. "Where were you? We looked everywhere!" "The carriage house," Simon said. "Taking care of the... uh, a bird I found." Simon looked uncomfortable. He wasn't used to having to lie. That was mostly Jared's job. Mallory rolled her eyes. "Too bad Mom wouldn't leave without you." "Mallory," their mother said, shaking her head in disapproval. "All of you—get in the car. We're going to be late already, and I still have to drop something off." As Mallory turned to put her bag in the trunk, Jared noticed that her chest looked strange. Stiff and weirdly... big. "What are you wearing?" he asked, pointing. "Shut up," she said. He snickered. "It's just that you look like you've got—" "Shut up!" she said again, getting into the front seat of the car while the boys climbed in the back. "It's for protection, and I have to have it on."

Jared smiled against the window and watched the woods go by. There hadn't been any faerie activity in more than two weeks—even Thimbletack had been quiet—and occasionally Jared had to remind himself that it was real. Sometimes it seemed like everything could be explained away. Even the burning water had been dismissed as simply being from a contaminated well. Until the old plumbing could be connected to a central line, they used gallons of supermarket water without Mom thinking it was strange. But there was Simon's griffin, and that couldn't be explained by anything but Arthur's field guide. "Stop chewing on your ponytail," their mother said to Mallory. "What is making you so jittery? Is this new team really that good?"

"I'm fine," Mallory said. Back in New York she'd fenced in sweatpants and a team jacket chosen from a pile. There had been a guy who'd hold up his hand on your side if you had scored. But at the new school, fencers wore real uniforms and had electric rapiers wired to a scoring machine that flashed lights when someone got hit. Jared thought that was enough to make anyone jumpy. Apparently their mother had another explanation. "It's that boy, isn't it? The one you

were talking to on Wednesday when I picked you up." "What boy?" Simon asked from the backseat, already starting to laugh. "Be quiet," said their mother, but she answered anyway. "Chris, the fencing captain. He is the captain, isn't he?" Their sister grunted noncommittally. "Chris and Mallory sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-IN- G," Simon sang. Jared giggled, and Mallory turned toward the backseat, eyes narrowed. "Want to lose all your baby teeth at once?" "Don't listen to them," their mother said. "And don't worry. You're a smart, pretty girl and a great fencer. I bet he likes you." "Mom!" Mallory groaned and sank lower in the front seat. Their mother stopped at the library where she worked, dropped off some paperwork, and returned to the idling car, somewhat out of breath.