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.