Wayfarer by R.J. Anderson

they’d left the flat made her look like an ordinary human girl in a winter jacket and jeans, but it plainly wasn’t keeping her warm: By the time she had finished speaking her cheeks were rosy with cold, and she was hugging herself in an effort not to shiver. Timothy fished his last sweatshirt out of his backpack and handed it to her.
    â€œOh, I am grateful,” she breathed as she floundered into it, rolling up the sleeves that drooped over her hands. “But you haven’t said anything.” She looked up at him, eyes big with apprehension. “Are you angry?”
    Timothy shoved a hand through his hair. “No, it’s all marvelous,” he said bitterly. “I’m glad you and Rob had such a nice chat. Lovely people, your folk.”
    â€œI’m sorry.” She looked stricken. “I never imagined it would be like this. I thought if I could only find more faeries, everything would be wonderful. But to meet them, and then hear that they all despise us and call us Forsaken…and even worse, that they’re ruled by someone evil… ”
    â€œSo now we’ve got no choice but to run back to Oakhaven.” Timothy stomped on a discarded soda can and kicked it aside. “It’d be one thing if I’d been gone a week,or been in an accident or something. But coming back to Paul and Peri’s the morning after I left, because I was scared of a lot of homicidal faeries—that’s just pathetic. They probably haven’t even found my note yet.”
    Linden said nothing. Her head was bent, her face invisible behind her turbulence of hair.
    â€œOn the other hand,” he continued, “it’s the perfect excuse not to go back to Greenhill. Hello, Mum and Dad, England’s fine, I met some faeries and now they want to kill me. Sure you don’t want to send me to school in Canada instead?”
    Linden gave a quavering laugh and then, to Timothy’s horror, burst into tears. He grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her away from the road, hoping desperately that she’d calm down before someone stopped and demanded to know what was going on.
    But though Linden put her hands over her face and sobbed until her body shook, none of the passing cars even slowed down. And once she’d wept herself into dry hiccups and wiped her eyes on her sleeve, Timothy was finally able to make out what she was saying:
    â€œI’ve done everything wrong,” she choked. “I thought I could help the Oakenfolk—I thought I was helping you—but all I’ve done is put all of us in worse danger than ever. What if the Empress sends her people after us? What if they find the Oak? Valerian was right. I wasn’t ready for this. And what am I going to tell the Queen when I see her?”
    Timothy regarded her helplessly for a moment. Then with sudden decisiveness he took Linden by the elbow and marched her along with him until they reached the train station. He steered her inside and made her sit down on one of the benches before taking both her hands in his and saying in the low, firm voice he used to calm his little sister, “All right, yes, it’s a bad situation. For both of us. But we’re still alive, and we’ve made it this far. That’s good, isn’t it?”
    Reluctantly, Linden nodded.
    â€œSo we’ll get you on the next train to Aynsbridge, and you can go back to the Oak and tell the others what happened. At least now you know that there are other faeries out there. Male faeries, even. That’s got to be worth something.”
    Linden rubbed at her reddened eyes. “But if all the other faeries want nothing to do with us, and all we can do is sit in the Oak and wait to die—”
    â€œWho says that? Maybe the faeries here in London won’t help you, but you can always go to some other city—or another country, if you have to. All you have to do is hide in the Oak for a few days until the