Excerpt Tirissa

Maybe the stranger had cast a spell on the village. Maybe he was a
wizard!

The old stories were full of wizards, spells, and magical creatures.
Mistress Farleaf said she'd met a witch long ago in the town of
Kellayne, and every family knew of some distant relative who'd seen a
troll or even a dragon way back when. Rumor had it that a wizard, or
maybe two, lived somewhere in the Three Kingdoms-no one knew
where. But why would a wizard come to this tiny village and cast a
spell? A spell that froze the hearts of everyone in the village, a spell
that allowed him to order them around. A spell that didn't affect her.

No wonder he'd arranged to talk to her alone. He wanted to find out
whether or not she was affected by his spell and from the look on his
face, he had his answer.

"Let's go all the way up the hill, shall we?" he wheedled. He put a
hand on her shoulder, as though to help her along, but it felt like a
claw. She shuddered.

His suggestion made her think he'd come to a decision. He didn't want
anyone around that wasn't under the spell, so he meant to take her
away from the village and…and what? Harm her? Kill her? She felt
faint. She had to run, but where? No one in the village could help
her-they were all under his spell. She'd have to take her chances in
the woods beyond Oakenwood Hill.

Tirissa shook his hand off her shoulder, gathered up her skirt, and
darted away between the trees. She passed Mistress Quince's house
and tossed down the bag of herbs, and then raced to the top of the hill
and down the other side, making a rabbit scurry out of her path. The
Advisor kept calling to her, but soon his voice sounded far away. She
crossed a stream by jumping from one rock to another, and then ran
up the next hill, ducking under the branches.

She heard a cry and then a splash. He must have slipped and fallen
into the stream. Now was the time to hide. She chose a tree, grabbed
the lowest branch, and started climbing. When her skirt got caught,
she wrenched it free and kept going. She hid as high in the tree as she
could.

Here he came. He limped up, looking in every direction. She stayed
perfectly still. He broke off a dead branch and poked under the bushes,
and then peered up at the trees, muttering to himself. Her heart
pounded and lurched. At last, he seemed to decide she wasn't nearby,
and he stood quietly for a while as though waiting. She couldn't
imagine what he was waiting for. Finally he looked around one last
time, and then his nose began to lengthen and harden until it turned
into a long, pointed beak. His thin legs grew thinner and bent
backwards at the knees. Brown feathers sprouted along his arms,
which grew longer and longer until he had huge wings.

She almost gasped out loud.

Who was he?

What was he?

He looked around one more time and then limped to the crest of the
hill. With a few flaps of his wings, he soared into the air, his lame leg
hanging awkwardly.

He began to circle overhead, searching.

Searching for her.