Free The Solstice Cup by Rachel Muller Page A

began to move over the ground at the base of the stones. Three long bony fingers and a thumb, patting the ground, feeling for something. The older Mackenzie, the one watching the scene from above, knew instantly what the hand was searching for. The younger Mackenzie did too. She sprang to life, lunging for the ring in her sister’s hand. She wrestled it free and flung it into the shadows. Before her sister could react, the young Mackenzie grabbed Breanne’s arm and dragged her down the hill.
    Breanne fought back. They’d traveled just a few yards before she managed to wrench her arm free. The younger Mackenzie’s attention was focused entirely on her sister. In her desperation to pull Breanne to safety, she didn’t see the hideous creature crouched beneath the arch. The older Mackenzie saw it. She saw the Pooka raise a hollow bone to its lips. It puffed its leathery cheeks, and a tiny dart flew from the end of the bone. Breanne yelped and collapsed, clutching her ankle.
    â€œI thought she’d stumbled, that she’d twisted her ankle as I was trying to get her down the hill,” the older Mackenzie whispered, her eyes still fixed on the scene reflected in the pool. “But then it never got better. We were best friends before that, but then—”
    â€œAll this time your sister has blamed you for her leg,” Nuala said. “But the truth is, you saved her. Look.”
    Mackenzie watched her sister rock back and forth in pain. She watched the younger version of herself yank Breanne to her feet and half drag, half carry the moaning girl down the hill. The shadow cast by the stones behind them had gotten longer as the sun descended. The Pooka crept forward to the edge of the shadow and then stopped, as if it had reached an invisible barrier.
    â€œYou were lucky you got your sister away before the sun set,” said Nuala. “A few more minutes and that Pooka could have roamed anywhere in the dark.”
    The pool turned opaque again. Mackenzie looked up.
    â€œYou poor thing,” Nuala said, patting Mackenzie’s hand. “She hasn’t been very grateful, has she? But I know you still love her,” she said with a resigned sigh, “which is why I have one more thing to show you.”
    The faery reached into the folds of her skirt and withdrew a tiny brown bird. One of the bird’s wings was broken, its feathers twisted and bloody.
    â€œI know how cautious you are,” the faery said as she stroked the trembling bird. “I admire that, really. Human girls are usually so impulsive, like your sister. They never stop to think about the consequences of anything they do. But you’re different, aren’t you? For example, I couldn’t just tell you that solstice fire has healing properties. You’d need to see it for yourself.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” Mackenzie asked.
    â€œListen,” said Nuala. “I know you were only trying to protect your sister when you knocked the cup from her hand two nights ago, and when you convinced her not to drink last night. But one sip and her leg would be right again. Don’t you want that for her?”
    Mackenzie stared at the bird, too nervous to meet the faery’s eyes.
    â€œWatch,” said Nuala patiently. She lifted the bird above the white pool. “See how its wing is broken?” The bird struggled as Nuala lowered it slowly into the opaque liquid. “Now look!”
    The transformation was immediate. The bird shuddered, and its twisted feathers settled neatly into place. It spread its wings and tucked them in again by its side. The blood had vanished. Both wings were straight and undamaged.
    The faery raised her hand, and the bird flew to her fingers. “There—you’ve seen for yourself what the solstice fire can do,” she said as she stroked the bird’s feathers. “Any questions?”
    Mackenzie shook her head. “I-I don’t think