A Sliver of Stardust Read Online Free

small silver hourglass from her skirt pocket and peered at it—“who are right on time. Come in.”

FOUR
    Ride a cock-horse up to the sky
    And see a fine lady who won’t tell a lie.
    Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
    She shall have music wherever she goes.
    B efore Wren knew what was happening, Mary had whisked them through the door into what must have once been the living room of the house. She couldn’t be sure, though, because there were plants everywhere. Green vines snaked up the walls and twisted around an ancient-looking chandelier overhead. Wren ducked under the hanging baskets, whose bright red and gold flowers were drowned out by all the gloomy green. An overstuffed leather armchair and matching couch squatted in the center of the room like unsuspecting prey in the middle of a vast jungle.
    The bangles on Mary’s wrist clinked together as she made her way to the one wall that was lined with books instead of plants. Mary’s fingers were covered with rings, but Wren noticed one in particular, a black oval with tiny dots of silver speckling its surface. A ring that looked like the night sky.
    â€œThe universe is full of music, isn’t it, Wren?” Mary said, noticing how Wren was staring at her jewelry. “If only we have ears to hear.” She gave Wren an evaluating look. “I suspect you are a keen listener. Have a seat.”
    Wren made her way across the room, taking care not to disturb any of the musty knickknacks that crowded every available surface. All of it was coated with a thick layer of dust, as though no one had cleaned the room in years. A silver goblet entwined with ivy rested on a side table, a tarnished hand mirror propped up against it. In one corner, an ancient birdcage hung behind a veil of ferns, and judging by the thick cobwebs on its bars, the falcon that now perched on Mary’s shoulder hadn’t lived there for a long time. Wren sat on the edge of the chair, which was positioned right next to an old hourglass that was twice its size. A few crystals teetered on the interior funnel.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” Wren said when she realized that no explanation from Mary was forthcoming. “I saw you and your bird at the Olympiad. Why did—”
    â€œFalcon,” Simon interrupted, sitting down on a rickety old rocking chair and crossing his ankle over one knee. “She brought her falcon to the Olympiad.”
    Wren shot Simon a death glare, which, of course, he was oblivious to. “Your falcon, then,” she said in a stiff voice. “That delivered the invitation to become part of the fiddling guild. What does that even mean?”
    â€œExcellent creatures, falcons.” Mary reached into her pocket and fed the falcon something that sounded crunchy. The bird shifted on its perch, giving Wren a glimpse of the leather shoulder guard Mary wore. “And further confirmation you belong with the Fiddlers. You saw my falcon, and you saw me play the stardust, which means that you, too, can work the stardust’s magic.” Mary moved over to a cobwebby corner and ran her hand down one shelf. A spiral of blue-green danced in the air, and a low hollow note filled the room. “The magic calls to you, doesn’t it?”
    Wren sat frozen in place. Magic?
    The dust formed a tiny column of smoke between Mary’s fingers. It soon blossomed into a cloud ofshimmering fog that swirled around her, setting her clothes billowing. Mary spoke under her breath, and Wren could only catch a few words—something about secrets and seeing—because the rest was lost in the crooning of an unearthly wind. Mary raised one hand up in the air and swiped it down in front of her in a fluid motion, and the smoke flared with the bright light of a rainbow of colors. The next moment, the room was transformed. The wall behind the bookshelves melted away and revealed a large workroom with a low table centered in front of a