there is bravery in being soft

"Hey!" Caroline shouted, rushing toward the door.

She heard giggling, and eight pairs of feet racing away.

How could she have been so stupid?

She pounded and yelled—and then she stopped. They wanted her to yell. They wanted to scare her. Well, she still wasn't scared of the cellar.

They couldn't keep her in here forever. Grandma would notice she was missing and make them let her out. When they did, they would find her standing here, unafraid and unbothered.

She looked around the cellar. Four cinderblock walls. Cement floor. Lots of jars of pickles, lots of canned vegetables. Pieces of old metal tools that Grandpa had forgotten about. A dry Christmas wreath with a piece of garland falling off. Nothing scary.

Caroline reached the far right wall. There, she found the spiderwebs.

Lots of them.

Cobwebs stuck to the corners of the wall, the ceilings, and the shelves. In the middle of it all sat two of the biggest, fattest barn spiders Caroline had ever seen.

Caroline screamed so loud she was sure that her cousins could hear her upstairs. She stumbled backwards, then tripped and fell.

And kept falling.

And falling.

And falling.

And the world went black.

*

When Caroline opened her eyes, she was lying on a dirt road. On both sides of the road was grass that stood taller than Caroline's head. Beyond that were some of the biggest trees Caroline had ever seen. She'd heard of trees in California that had roads through them. It looked like those trees could hold ten of these roads. Their branches were so high up that Caroline could barely see them.

The shadows made the path dim, but between the branches, Caroline could see a bright sun in a blue-green sky. Ahead, there was nothing but road and grass and trees.

Behind her—

Caroline turned around, and came face-to-face with a grasshopper. It was taller than she was, as big as a horse, with huge dark eyes and mandibles big enough to chomp off her entire head.

Caroline screamed.

From somewhere behind the grasshopper's head, a voice said, "Woah! Calm down!"

A knight jumped off the grasshopper's back. Full metal armor—helmet, faceplate, gauntlets— like something out of a book. This did not make this situation less scary. Caroline couldn't stop screaming.

The knight pulled off its helmet, showing the head of a woman with a square face, short brown hair, and a scowl. She laid a hand on the grasshopper's head, then glared at Caroline. "You're going to scare her."

Caroline was so shocked that she fell silent. She was going to scare that thing?

The knight examined Caroline. "You're a child. What are you doing here in the middle of the road?"

"Umm…" Caroline looked around, and saw no doors back home, no signs in the sky explaining where she was or how she'd come here. "I don't know."

"Where did you come from?"

"My…grandma's. She lives in…" Caroline didn't think this knight would know where North Littleton was. She doubted the knight would know where Earth was.

Before she could figure out how to answer, a giant ant appeared next to the giant grasshopper. Caroline yelped (but didn't scream—if she wasn't supposed to scare one giant bug, she definitely wasn't going to scare two of them). The ant was about half as long as the grasshopper, but still tall enough to look Caroline in the eye.

A smaller knight jumped off the back of the ant. She was younger than the first knight—maybe nineteen?—and wore armor, but no helmet. Her hair was the same red-brown color as her ant, braided into a crown around her head, and she was smiling. "Who have you found, Petra?"

"A child," the first knight answered. "She seems to be a half-wit."

Caroline's fear was replaced by indignation. "I'm not stupid! I'm just lost!"

The shorter, smiling knight knelt down beside Caroline. "Do you have a name, little one?"

"I'm Caroline."

She bowed her head. "Pleased to meet you, Caroline. I'm Thea—Anthea—and that's Petra. We're Lady Knights of the Forest Realm."

Petra corrected, "I am…"

Thea blushed. "I will be soon, God willing. We're traveling to the Queen's City for my knighthood ceremony. Where are you going?"

"I wasn't going anywhere," Caroline said. "I was in my grandma's house. My cousins tricked me and locked me in the cellar. There were spiders…" She didn't want to think about the spiders. "I tripped and fell, and then I woke up here."

The two knights looked at each other.

Petra said, "Carried away in a dream?" as if she didn't believe it.

From above, a voice said, "Stranger things have happened." A blue dragonfly—as big as the grasshopper— came down from the sky, holding a black-haired knight. She was pale and movie-star beautiful, and her hair was braided in a crown like Thea's.

Petra said, "You'd believe anything, Adela."

The dragonfly landed, and the knight remained unbothered by the comment. "It's no stranger than the tale of the Lady in White, is it?"

Petra shot back, "That's poor logic."

Adela answered, "She's clearly from a strange country. Look at how she's dressed."

Jeans and a flowered shirt didn't fit in very well around all these knights.

Petra nodded, seeming to see Adela's point.

Thea put a hand on Caroline's shoulder and said, "Wherever she comes from, we can't leave her on the road."

"Where do we take her to?" Petra asked. "Where is her country?"

All three knights looked to Caroline for an answer. "I don't know," Caroline said. "My home…isn't anything like this."

Thea looked at her with curiosity. "What is it like?"

Where to begin? "We don't ride giant bugs."

Thea brightened. "Your first time! Wonderful! You can come with us to the city, and once we're there, someone can help us figure out how to find your way home. Do you like that plan?"

Caroline looked up at the enormous grasshopper, ant, and dragonfly, and took a step back. "Do I have to touch the bugs?"

"You'd have to ride with Petra," Thea said. "Honey and Damsel can't carry two riders. But I promise, Thunderbolt is very gentle."

Caroline didn't like the sound of that name. But she let Thea put her hand on the grasshopper's thorax. It wasn't slimy. It just felt hard and cool. Almost like plastic. The grasshopper didn't seem to be making any moves to bite her head off.

Still, she took a shaky step back, wary.

Petra's hard-lined face softened a bit. "I promise, she won't hurt you."

Caroline wasn't sure anything else in this world would give her that promise. Going with them sounded less scary than being alone in this woods. "I…can try."

"Excellent!" Thea said. She and Petra lifted Caroline into a molded seat in the front half of a saddle on the grasshopper's back. Petra sat behind her, holding her in place with one hand. The grasshopper walked forward, and Caroline didn't fall off.

This felt safe. She was brave enough to make this journey. So long as she didn't think about what she was riding.

*

They rode through the morning—Petra sitting behind her, Thea riding her ant on their left, Adela and her dragonfly to the right, hovering at their level, and occasionally zipping ahead before circling back to fly beside them again.

Caroline watched each time Adela flew off, amazed at the elegance. She flew circles around them and never had a hair out of place.

The twelfth time Caroline watched them fly away, Thea asked, "What did you mean when you said you don't have giant bugs in your country? How large are the insects?"

Caroline held her fingers a couple of inches apart. "Dragonflies and grasshoppers are about that big."

Thea's face lit up with joy. "Oh, it sounds darling!"

Caroline shuddered. "No. They're terrifying."

Caroline heard the frown in Petra's voice. "How could something so tiny be terrifying?"

Caroline blushed with shame. She felt like she was with her cousins again. "They're…creepy-crawly. And fast. You never know where they're going to be, or if they're going to climb all over you. And there's lots of them."

"That still doesn't sound frightening."

Thea said, "It would if they're not tame bugs."

Caroline thought about all the creepy-crawly types of bugs, and wished they could talk about anything else. "No," she said, through a tight throat. "They're not tame."

That seemed to settle the question. A moment later, Adela came back, reporting a stream up ahead where they could water their mounts, and all conversation stopped until they reached the river.

Petra helped Caroline to the ground, and told her she could stretch her legs while the bugs were drinking. "But don't go far, and don't splash in the water. There'll be mosquitoes nearby."

Caroline didn't like to imagine what kind of mosquitoes were in a place like this, so she stayed on the bank, watching the insects drink. The way they brought their heads to the water didn't quite look like insect behavior. Maybe these bugs weren't exactly the same kind of creatures as the ones on Earth. But they were close enough to make Caroline's skin crawl. She decided she needed to look at something that wasn't bugs for a few minutes.

She shouted to Thea, telling her where she was going, then walked up the bank, watching the river flow by. It was so wide she could barely see the opposite bank, and so deep blue that she wondered how deep it was. Were there giant fish inside? The trees next to her were twice her height, but thin as twigs, their leaves taking on the first yellow tinges of autumn.

She reached a boulder, as tall as her head, and tried to climb it for a better view. To her surprise, the rock moved forward—much lighter than it looked. She managed to scramble up, and looked out across the river, down the bank to where the knights were resting, up the bank to see—

Spider webs.

Enormous ones. Dangling from the branches of those enormous trees.

How giant were the spiders that could make webs like that?

Caroline screamed and fell off the rock. She splashed into the river, and splashed more as she blindly raced to the shore.

"Caroline!" Petra shouted, swinging herself onto her grasshopper. In one leap, she was at Caroline's side. She leaned down, trying to help Caroline out of the water. "I told you, be careful by the water! You'll draw in…"

A loud buzzing filled the air. Above them, a mosquito the size of a bus—twice as big as Petra's grasshopper—dove toward them, its enormous proboscis aiming straight for Caroline's head.

Petra took up a shield and pushed away the mosquito's nose. In her other hand, she took up a sword, slicing at the creature when it started coming after her.

Thea rode beneath the mosquito on her ant, slicing at the legs, but only getting knocked aside.

Adela zipped over the scene on her dragonfly, shooting two arrows at the mosquito, but the mosquito swerved and the arrows fell uselessly into the water. When the mosquito turned, its wings hit the dragonfly, which spun and nearly toppled, but Adela kept her seat and righted herself at the last moment.

Petra's grasshopper made an enormous leap and landed right on the back of the mosquito. Petra drove her sword into the creature's back. It spurted fountains of blood, but when it started writhing, Petra and her mount were thrown off. The grasshopper landed on its feet in the water. Petra landed on her left leg, just on the edge of the river bank.

While the mosquito buzzed and bled, Thea brought her ant beneath it and stabbed it in the abdomen. More blood flowed, and the mosquito started to fall, but Thea's ant reared up and pushed it away with its hind legs so it fell in the open water.

The silence felt like the silence after thunder. From above, Adela asked, "Is anyone hurt?"

"Caroline?" Thea asked.

Caroline picked herself up from the water, shaking all over. "I'm…fine," she said, near tears. She held up a hand and clarified, "I'm not hurt. But Petra…"

Adela zipped over to land her dragonfly on the bank, and they all gathered around Petra. Petra was covered in blood—hers, or the mosquito's?

Adela examined her with quiet efficiency. "Broken leg," she said.

"I could have told you that," Petra growled.

"We'll need a safer place to tend to it," Thea said.

Adela said, "We were planning at spending the night in Magda's village. It's not far, and Magda was a good medic."

Slowly, carefully, Adela and Thea helped Petra onto her grasshopper. Caroline felt useless—worse, like a problem. This was her fault.

"You can ride Honey," Thea said, offering her ant. "We're going to walk, anyhow."

Slowly, Caroline mounted, burning in shame. She didn't look at any of them until they reached the village.

*

Sunlight shone through the farmhouse window—a lavender sunrise in a teal sky. Caroline had been so tired last night that she'd fallen asleep without looking at the room they'd put her in. It was small, dim, and cozy, with wooden walls, a patchwork quilt, a rag rug on the floor.

Caroline's wet and bloody clothes had been taken off, and she was wearing a yellow dress of some of the softest fabric she'd ever worn. She tiptoed out in bare feet, and a few doors down, she found a stone-floored kitchen, and a brown, motherly woman tending the fire.

Caroline tried to remember the name she'd heard last night. "Magda?"

The woman looked up. Her brown curls were held up under a kerchief. "Caroline!" she said. "Good morning! You're up early! How did you sleep?"

She barely had. Her mind was too full of images of mosquitoes and feelings of guilt. "Good, I guess," she said.

Magda must have been a mother, because she only frowned and helped Caroline into a chair near the fire. "What's wrong?"

"I guess…it's just…it's not fair. Those ladies just wanted to help me, and now Petra's hurt."

"It's their duty," Magda said. "They are sworn to help travelers, especially children."

"But it's my fault. If I hadn't panicked like a baby…"

"You didn't know," Magda said. "From what I hear, you haven't seen any place like this before."

Caroline closed her eyes to hold back tears, wishing with all her heart that she was back at home. "No, I haven't."

Magda put a hand on Caroline's shoulder. "I have a daughter about your age. She's been dying for a chance to meet you. If you like, she could show you around the farmyard."

Caroline looked toward the door to the rest of the house. "I…don't know. Petra…"

"Petra is sleeping, and there's nothing you can do here crying and fretting. Get some fresh air. You'll feel better for it."

Magda found Caroline a pair of wooden shoes and a golden brown cloak, and had her out in the farmyard before she could object. The air was cool, and it did help Caroline's headache a little.

They walked into a farmyard that was shared by half a dozen houses. They passed several animal pens. Chickens were the normal size,and so were goats. Cats seemed just a bit smaller. In the distance, Caroline saw signs of other workshops—a shoemaker, a ropemaker, a weaving shed. Everything that these farms needed, made right on the same property—half farm, half village.

They stopped next to a windowless shed, where a mustached man—Magda's husband—and a little girl were using nets to herd enormous fireflies—each the size of a basketball—through the door.

Magda said, "Zita, our guest would like to see the farmyard."

Zita's head bounced up. She had dark, springy curls, a face full of freckles, and the widest smile that Caroline had ever seen. She was smaller even than Caroline—maybe a year or two younger.

"I can't believe it!" Zita said. "I never see girls my age! And you got to ride with knights! And face a mosquito! You're the most exciting thing that's happened here in ages. What was it like?"

Caroline's head spun with the questions. Her stomach clenched with guilt. She wrapped her cloak tighter around herself. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Zita," Magda scolded. "She's had a very rough day. She's here for help, not to entertain you."

"Sorry," she said quickly, then immediately brightened again. "Do you want to see the bumbles?"

"I…" Caroline looked to Magda, unsure.

Magda gently pushed her toward Zita. "I'm sure she'd love to see them."

Zita took Caroline's hand. They hurried across the farmyard, Caroline almost running to keep up.

"That's the insect stable," Zita said, pointing out a wooden building to their left. "Your mounts are in there. What's it like, riding a grasshopper? I've never ridden anything except Ma's old ant. She was a charger back when Ma was a knight, but now she moves like a slug--"

Caroline decided to change the subject. "What's a bumble?" she asked.

Zita stopped, and her jaw dropped. "You've never seen a bumble before? You are from a strange country!"

She led Caroline to a whitewashed building on the far end of the farmyard. A wooden fence surrounded a wide area around it. Inside this fence, stood a bumblebee the size of a buffalo.

"We've got a big hive," Zita said. "Fifteen bees! They make tons of honey, and more yarn than we know what to do with. Your clothes come from these bees right here."

Caroline rubbed the soft edge of her cloak. She was wearing bee fur. Weirdly, she didn't mind. It felt nice.

Zita let go of Caroline's hand and climbed onto the lower rung of the fence, right next to the bee. "Come here and pet her!"

Caroline hung back. "Do they sting?"

Zita looked at her like she was stupid. "A bumble?"

Caroline took that as a no.

Zita reached for Caroline's hand. "She's gentle. Come see."

She put Caroline's hand onto the beast's flank. Her hand sunk in halfway up her arm. It felt like being in a cloud—the softest thing Caroline had ever felt.

She sunk her hand in deeper. The bee's wings—far too small for flight—buzzed in a noise that sounded almost like purring. Caroline smiled.

Zita grinned. "See? She likes it. You want to come to the pasture?"

Caroline found that she did.

The bumbles were so gentle that little Zita could take all of them to the pasture herself, luring them along with staff topped with an enormous fabric flower. The pasture was a long way from the farmyard, and after fifteen minutes, Caroline began to wonder why it was so far—there was plenty of grassland nearer the farm.

Then they reached the pasture. Enormous flowers—sunflowers would be small here—towered over them in a rainbow of colors, and covered the ground like a carpet. The bumbles went through the gate and bumbled from flower to flower, their wings buzzing with pleasure.

Zita took Caroline through the fields, showing her every flower, introducing her to the white-clad beekeepers who'd watch the flocks of several farms today.

"This is Caroline," Zita told them. "She rode in with knights."

The beekeepers seemed impressed. Maybe it was impressive. But right now, Caroline was much happier to be on a farm with a friend.

*

Adela flew her dragonfly over the farmyard—weaving through trees, skimming over buildings, doing spirals and loops and barrel rolls.

Caroline watched in awe from the ground. Adela had done this every afternoon since they'd arrived—five days—and Caroline never got tired of watching it. It was beautiful, elegant, thrilling, and Adela did it all so easily.

Adela landed and jumped to the ground, quietly satisfied. When she looked at Caroline, she didn't smile, but her eyes looked happier. "Ready to help me practice?"

Caroline picked up a wooden sword, and Adela led her through footwork and basic thrusts. Adela claimed that, in fact, Caroline was doing her a favor—she liked to keep a firm grip on the basics. Caroline almost believed her, but there was a gentleness in her way of doing things that made it clear she was doing this to help the scared little kid who'd screamed at spider webs. Yet, Caroline didn't mind. It did help to feel that she had some way to defend herself.

"You're surprisingly strong," Adela had said, when Caroline had picked up the sword with ease. No one had ever called her strong before. But as if sensing Caroline's rising pride, she'd added, "But strength has to be tempered. Don't ever lose that gentleness."

Caroline didn't think there was any danger of getting too strong. She still jumped at shadows, and shuddered at the thought of going back in the forest with those giant mosquitoes.

She had gone up on Damsel, though. Just once. Adela had strapped her into the saddle and let her fly around on a long lead like a kite string. It had felt so safe that Caroline hadn't felt like she'd done a brave thing at all.

Thea came out of Magda's house. Her hair was in one long braid, and she was wearing an autumn-colored dress and clutching a book to her chest—she looked more like a schoolgirl than a knight.

"I'm heading to the chapel," Thea said. "Want to come?"

Adela said things about armor and saddles that made it sound like she was too busy to come.

Thea turned to Caroline. "How about you?"

Caroline looked back at Damsel, half-hoping that if she stayed, Adela would offer another ride. But Adela had sounded busy, and after the disastrous first day, Caroline was extra anxious not to be the annoying kid.

"I'll come," Caroline said.

Thea led her out of the farmyard along the path toward the bumble pasture. About halfway there, they turned onto another path that forked toward a forested hill. Just inside a tree line was a little square house made of gray riverstone and topped with a tiny little steeple. The building had four stained-glass windows, holding pictures that reminded Caroline of Bible stories. Over the door was a carving of a story that Caroline knew couldn't be from her world's Bible—a woman in a dress and veil, standing next to an enormous grasshopper and a little girl.

Caroline pointed to it. "What's that?" she asked Thea.

Thea's eyes lit up with joy. "You noticed! That's the story of the White Lady."

Had Adela mentioned something about that? Not as strange as the story of the White Lady? It could be nice to hear about someone who was weirder than her.

Thea's voice slipped into a low, flowing register—a nice storytelling voice. "Five hundred years ago, the insects terrorized the land. People huddled in dens in trees and caves, gathering what little they could save before spiders, wasps and mosquitoes attacked. Even ants and grasshoppers were menaces, and dragonflies—" Thea shivered.

Caroline remembered Adela's aerial maneuvers, the speed with which her dragonfly moved through the air. Tamed, it was thrilling. Wild—it could be scarier than the spiders.

"Then, one day, a young girl in the forest—Queen Ava, though she wasn't queen yet—met a lady dressed all in white. The White Lady of the Forest, we call her. She tamed the first grasshopper for Ava, and taught her to tame the other insects. Ava became the first of the lady knights, and she trained other women to follow her. She became queen, then crowned her son, and the lady knights have defended the realm ever since."

"That's a good story," Caroline said. It might explain one thing she had a question about. "Is that why all the knights have to be ladies? Because of the Lady in White?"

"It's tradition, but not required. It's more that most men are too heavy to ride well. Some can, but almost all the riders are women." Thea looked up at the carving. "I've wanted to be a knight ever since I can remember. I pray I can be."

Caroline remembered Thea rushing fearlessly into battle and slaying the mosquito. "You should be," Caroline said. "You're brave. And strong."

Thea laughed. "I'm not."

"I saw you. With the mosquito. You weren't afraid."

"I was terrified," she said. "But I was more afraid of my friends being hurt."

Caroline's mind was boggled. "And you still want to be a knight?"

"The only way any woman can be a knight is to rely, not on her own strength, but on heaven's. That's why I came here—to pray for the courage to do what I'm called to do."

Clutching her book, Thea stepped into the chapel. Inside the little stone room, she lit a candle and knelt at the front of the room.

Caroline slipped inside and sat in one of the chairs. It might be good for her to pray, too.

* As Caroline approached Magda's house, she heard a strange thumping in the kitchen. She peeked into the open window and saw that Petra was out of bed, her hair unbound, wearing a simple golden gown, and clumping around the kitchen with a crutch.

"See?" she said, turning to glare at Magda. "I can move. I can definitely ride."

"Another day or two—"

"We've lost enough time," Petra said. "With that kid along, it'll take even longer—if we get there at all."

Caroline pulled away from the window with tears in her eyes.

She heard Magda say, "She's become much more comfortable the past few days."

"She jumps at shadows," Petra snapped.

Another, smoother voice joined in—Adela. "She's timid, but she's trying."

"Let's hope she doesn't try us into an early grave."

Caroline crawled away from the window, and hid by the bumble shed until supper time.

No one must have seen her, because at suppertime, everyone pretended to be cheerful about the journey.

"We leave tomorrow," Thea said, smiling. "Are you ready to ride out?"

Caroline had told herself she would be strong, and brave, and prove that she was capable of traveling with them. With everyone staring at her, she burst into tears.

She was trying to be braver, but every time she remembered the mosquito, every time she thought of those spider webs, she wanted to hide in the cellar and never come out. She didn't know what other dangers were out there. What if she panicked again, and this time Petra got hurt even worse? What if one of them died? She didn't know if she was brave enough—she couldn't know—and the not knowing was the most terrifying thing of all.

Thea knelt down and hugged her. "Oh, Caroline, don't cry. It's not such a long journey."

"I can't…" Caroline gasped, "come. You don't want…I'm trouble."

"Sweet, you're welcome to come."

"I can't," Caroline sobbed, before falling into tears that made it too hard to talk.

Thea hugged her for a long time, and when Caroline finally stopped crying, she looked into her face. "Do you really want to stay here?"

Caroline wiped her eyes with her sleeves. "I want to go home."

"I know. But until then, you'd rather stay here than travel?"

Caroline liked it here. It felt safe. Magda and Zita liked her. She liked the bumbles. She wouldn't get to watch Adela fly, but she wouldn't have to watch anyone fall off a giant mosquito into a pool of blood, either. This world was big and terrifying, but this part of it was small enough to understand.

She nodded.

Adela was standing on Caroline's other side—Caroline hadn't known she was there. "You know, there's no reason she needs to travel with us. We're only looking for someone to help her get home. We can tell her story, and bring back someone who can help. Or we can come back for her with a carriage—something safer to travel in."

"Is Magda willing to keep her?" Petra asked.

"She is welcome to stay," Magda said, almost daring someone to challenge her.

Thea stood and said, "We can pay for her keep."

Magda waved a hand as though pushing away something offensive. "She's such a help around here that I'll have to consider paying her. She helps Zita with her chores. She's good with the bumbles. We'll be glad to have her."

Caroline's heart warmed, and some of her tears dried. She agreed to stay.

Yet at night, as she tried to fall asleep, she couldn't fight back the sense of shame.

*

Caroline woke up with the sunrise and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Magda was already at the spinning wheel, spinning bumble fur into golden yarn.

It felt strange to be Magda's only guest. The knights had all left yesterday morning. Petra had bidden her a kind--yet relieved-- farewell. Thea had cried and hugged her and promised to come back as soon as she was knighted. Adela had been quiet, kind, and gentle as always, but as they started to ride away, and Caroline made no move to follow, she'd looked almost…disappointed. Like she'd wanted more from Caroline. That had haunted her.

Had she failed? Was she being less than she meant to be? Should she have tried to trust like Thea?

She needed something to distract her. "I'm going to the bumbles," she told Magda.

Magda spoke up just as Caroline reached the door. "Zita's not feeling well this morning," she said. "She won't be able to take the bumbles to the pasture."

Magda had urged Zita to stay inside yesterday--it had been a wet morning, but Zita had insisted on seeing the knights off. Caroline had heard her coughing half the night.

"I can take them out," Caroline said. She'd watched Zita do it enough times, and had even led them twice.

The spinning wheel stopped. "Are you sure? You're not afraid?"

Caroline needed to feel brave about something. Magda had said Caroline would be a help, and she wanted to prove she could be. "I'm sure."

She was less sure as she approached the bumble hive. Leading them all on her own was different from doing it with Zita's help. What if they didn't follow her? What if she lost them and Magda regretted keeping her?

She found the flower staff, opened the gate, and led all the bumbles to the pasture path. They followed her just as well as they did Zita. Their fuzzy black-and-yellow bumbling bulk looked cheerful on this chilly autumn morning. Caroline brought them to the pasture, where they buzzed happily among dew-covered blossoms. She closed the gate, waved to the white-clad beekeeper lounging beneath a huge daisy, and started walking back to the farm, her heart light. She'd done one thing right.

About halfway back, she passed the path that led to the chapel, and remembered standing in front of that doorway while Thea told her how she'd always dreamed of becoming a knight. She was going to fulfill her dream, and Caroline wouldn't be there to see it.

She dashed down the path, stepped into the chapel, then knelt down in the chapel in tears. Why had she given in to fear? Thea had been so kind to her—had seemed to like her—and she hadn't even tried to act like a friend. Why couldn't she have been brave and strong and worthy of adventure?

She heard Thea's words, just as if Thea were still there next to her. A knight has to rely, not on her own strength, but on heaven's.

Give me strength, Caroline prayed. From this moment, help me to be brave enough to do what I need to do.

When Caroline finally stepped out of the chapel, the sun was high in the sky. Caroline gasped. How long had she been away? Magda would be so worried!

She raced back toward the farm, barely looking back. As she crossed the fence around the farmyard, she noticed some string hanging from the posts. Thin, long, white strands—

Caroline froze. Spider silk.

Her heart raced. She struggled to breathe. But panicking over spider silk had hurt people and left her in this mess. She forced herself to keep going. Just because there was silk didn't mean there was—

Strands of spider silk blocked the path. It stretched between two of the farm buildings. Made a net over part of the village. Covered most of Magda's house. Several brown, skinny legs appeared over the roof, and a spider as big as a barn stood on top of Magda's house. Two more crawled on other buildings, and one was wrapping a spare firefly into a web.

Caroline ran away screaming. She sprinted down the path back to the chapel, dove inside the thick stone walls, and sat against the door to barricade it. She was crying and gasping so hard that she was lightheaded, not able to form any prayer beyond WHAT DO I DO, WHAT DO I DO, WHAT DO I DO?

She couldn't fight spiders. She couldn't leave Magda and Zita and all the villagers to die. But she had nothing to give—no bravery, no strength. If she'd ever needed heaven's help, she needed it now.

Somewhere in the middle of her panic, a sense of peace washed over her. Was this what Thea had meant by trust? She knew she could do nothing, so she had to believe that God could? Against everything logical, she had a sense that someone was looking out for her, and would make everything work out the way it was supposed to.

She still didn't know what to do. But she could breathe. She could stand. She could open the door and step out into the sunshine and see if any things showed up for her to do.

The moment she stepped into the sunshine, she remembered the beekeepers. Someone had to warn them! The spiders might go after the bumbles next! Or, if they didn't, maybe some of the beekeepers would know how to help the village.

She raced toward the pasture, not even bothering with the path, just ducking between trees. As she emerged from the trees, she saw a beekeeper far up the next hill, standing in the shade of a tree with an enormous bug.

Caroline raced toward the beekeeper. "Spiders!" she shouted, "At the village!"

The beekeeper looked up. She was a young woman—almost as young as Thea, as pretty as Adela, but with golden hair instead of black. "What's wrong?" she asked.

Caroline stopped in front of her, panting. "There are spiders at the village! They're going to eat everyone and I don't know what to do!"

"Has anyone alerted the knights?" the woman asked.

"They left yesterday," Caroline gasped. "They're heading to the palace."

"They'll still be on this road, then," the woman said. "You'll be able to overtake them. You'd best take Lady."

Her hand held a rope, and when she pulled it forward, Caroline saw that the bug behind her was a blue dragonfly—smaller than Damsel, but alert and active, and still fully saddled.

Without thinking, Caroline scrambled into the saddle. She'd only flown once, on a lead, but she'd watched how Adela controlled her dragonfly. She could do it. She had no other choice.

The woman helped to strap Caroline in, then touched the dragonfly's thorax. It rose smoothly into the air. "Take heart," the woman called after them as they zipped away. "Trust!"

The dragonfly rose, and the ground sped away beneath them—trees, fields, and at last, the main road. The animal moved gracefully, responding to Caroline's every touch, as though it understood exactly what she wanted. Adela had been right to expect more of her—she was a natural! Even with danger and horror at her heels, she couldn't suppress a feeling of triumph.

Caroline didn't know how fast the dragonfly flew, but it was faster than she'd expected. Within minutes, it seemed, they saw a party of travelers on the road—three knights on a green grasshopper, a red ant, and a blue dragonfly, with another party of four knights following closely behind.

Caroline tapped her dragonfly's head, and Lady dove between the tree branches to hover just above the knights' heads.

They all looked up in astonishment. "Caroline?" Thea gasped.

"Spiders," Caroline said, not wanting to waste a second. "In the village. Come fast!"

Adela rose to hover beside Caroline's dragonfly. The wings of their mounts almost touched. "You're flying," she said, her expression a mix of calm wonder and unruffled satisfaction.

Thea asked, "Where did you get the dragonfly?"

"The beekeeper," Caroline said. "She was outside the chapel and—"

Petra frowned. "There are no female beekeepers at the village pasture."

Did it matter? How could they waste time arguing details? "All I know is that the lady in white—"

She stopped. She looked at Thea.

Thea's eyes were bright with joy and wonder.

Even Petra seemed stunned. After a moment, she collected herself, and said, "Well, you'd better stay in the air. Fly ahead with the fliers. Do whatever Adela tells you."

Adela called to a red-headed lady in the other group who was mounted on a little red dragonfly. Adela looked back at Caroline, her eyes shining with wonder and pride. "Follow me," she said.

Damsel sped ahead, and Lady and the other knight's dragonfly followed her every turn. There were no fancy tricks on this trip, just a straight path, as fast as they could fly. Before long, they were flying over the village. The spiders had covered another barn, and most of the fireflies and half the goats were wrapped up in the web. Caroline didn't dare to check if any of the bundles were human-shaped.

Adela motioned for them to land in a clearing on the far end of the village. She motioned for Caroline to land beside her, and Caroline's dragonfly landed so close that Caroline could touch Adela's knee.

Adela handed her a short blade—metal, not wood. "I know you know how to use that."

The blade was lighter than it looked. Caroline swung it easily. She trusted that she could avoid cutting herself, but that was all she could trust herself to do while in flight.

"Fly the perimeter," Adela said. "Keep out of the reach of the spiders. If any people escape, escort them to the chapel."

Damsel rose into the air, and the red dragonfly followed her into the village. Lady rose even higher, and Caroline flew her around the village.

Adela and the red-haired knight sliced at the silk strands surrounding the houses that the spiders had finished with. In a few minutes, some doors were open, and several villagers—scared, but not hurt—stumbled out into the open.

Caroline dove toward them and hovered over their heads, directing them toward the chapel.

She escorted the group down the path—they went maddeningly slow compared to dragonfly flight, but there was no space on Lady for passengers. By the time she returned to the farmyard, the other knights had arrived—some freeing houses and people from spider silk, some taking on the spiders.

Not far from the fence, Petra was fighting a spider all by herself. Another rider—a man with a walking-stick mount—lay stunned and half-wrapped on the ground. Petra and Thunderbolt were half-wrapped, too, but still alert and fighting. Petra was struggling against the silk with her sword arm, while using the shield arm to fend off the spider's legs.

Lady dove toward the spider. Had Caroline nudged her there? Well, now that they were going in that direction, she could make use of the sword Adela had given her—

Lady dove beneath the spider's foreleg, and Caroline was able to reach down and just slice the thread that held Petra attached to the spider. Once that tension was released, Petra was able to easily slip off the rest of the silk, freeing her sword arm. She sliced at the spider, but by that time, another knight had come to her aid, and Caroline was far across the village.

The knights had uncovered the door of another house, and Zita escaped into the open. Caroline dove toward her. "Follow me!"

"Caroline?!" Zita shouted. "Where did you get a dragonfly?"

Caroline told as much of the story as she could while in flight, and escorted Zita along with another group of villagers toward the chapel.

By the time she came back, it was clear that the battle was over. Four spiders lay dead on the ground. Several villagers were already cleaning up the debris. She found Magda tearing strands of spider silk from her house and wrapping it into bundles.

"It makes excellent ropes," Magda was explaining to the red-haired knight. "Even armor. It's not a bad thing to have—"

She looked over as Caroline landed behind her. She dropped the spider silk as she rushed toward Caroline. "Caroline! You're alive! I was so worried—" She stopped as she reached the dragonfly, seeming only to notice it when the wings were right in her face. She looked as though she weren't sure whether to laugh or scold her. "What have you been up to?" she asked.

Adella landed beside her on Damsel, looking as poised as ever. "She has quite the story to tell," she told Magda.

Petra rode up on on Thunderbolt, with tatters of spider silk hanging from her arms, but a—genuine, warm—smile on her face as she met Caroline's eyes. "She was very brave."

*

The palace of the Woodland King was built into an enormous tree—carved into the inside, grafted onto the trunk, built on the branches. The hall was the oldest part of the building—Thea had told Caroline all the history—made out of an intricately-carved piece of wood settled atop the oldest branch, its interior walls decorated with red and purple diamonds edged with gold leaf. Yet, even as she stood in front of the king and queen, amid a crowd of hundreds of knights and nobles, Caroline couldn't help thinking of it as a great, big birdhouse.

The king was a young, golden-haired man—quiet, but with smiling eyes, whose pretty wife stood at his shoulders while he swore in each of the new knights. His mother, the queen, followed after him, bestowing a medal and commendation on each woman.

Thea's eyes were bright as she took her oaths. She didn't look scared at all. She was right where she was supposed to be. Caroline was glad she could see it.

Caroline stood at the very far end of the row, wearing a white dress and a golden bee-fuzz shawl. The king stopped and smiled down on her, but didn't speak.

Queen Ida, a dark-haired, elegant woman—a bit like Adela—stood before Caroline and clasped a bracelet on her wrist that bore a single silver medal. One side held the image of the White Lady with Queen Ava. The other showed the image of a dragonfly.

"You are the youngest we have ever so honored," the Queen said. "As a foreigner and a child, you can make no oaths to the king, but as keeper of the Lady's Knights, I can give you the honors due one worthy of that rank."

That afternoon, they celebrated on the forest floor, in a garden specially decorated for the ceremony. Thea claimed a shrub-enclosed corner for her own guests—Petra and Adella, Magda and some of the villagers, family and friends, and, of course, Caroline.

"You're stealing all my glory!" Thea said, admiring the medal on Caroline's wrist, and comparing it to the matching one—with an ant on the reverse side—on her own wrist. "All my years of work, and this child gets knighthood the same day!" But she said it with so much laughter that Caroline knew she even happier than Caroline could be.

After the celebration ended, Caroline slipped away from the pavilion and toward the insect stables. She wanted to see Lady, and needed some space to think about everything that had happened.

The whole situation felt weirder the more that Caroline thought about it. Why hadn't she thought it strange that a beekeeper had a dragonfly fitted with a saddle that was perfectly-sized for Caroline? Why hadn't she thought it weird that a dragonfly would respond so readily to an untrained kid? Why had she rushed toward the spider to help Petra, when a few minutes before, she'd run screaming from the webs?

Part of it was the White Lady—everything strange seemed so natural around her. Part of it was the emergency—she didn't have time to think about what she was doing and whether it was possible. Part of it, maybe, was that she'd been too worried about everyone else to worry about herself.

It didn't feel quite right to accept honors for that. She wasn't sure she could do it again.

But she had done it once. She could accept it, deserved or undeserved, just as easily as she'd accepted the tame dragonfly from the hands of the Lady in White.

She turned the corner around a tree—and saw a golden-haired lady in a white dress standing just in front of the stables.

Caroline fell to her knees. How had she ever mistaken her for a beekeeper? She looked more like a queen than the actual queen did.

"My lady," Caroline said, forgetting that she was a knight and babbling like a scared kid. "I wanted to thank you for your help. I'm sorry I didn't know you, and I'm sorry I didn't bring back the dragonfly. It's in the royal stables—"

The Lady smiled—sweet and gentle and beautiful as sunlight. "It's welcome to remain there. But I'm afraid she'll need another knight to ride her."

"What do you mean, my lady?"

"It's time for you to go home."

Home. Grandma's cellar and the cousins and bugs that weren't big enough to ride. In all the excitement, she'd almost forgotten.

"Now?" she asked. She looked back toward the palace, and regretted that she hadn't said goodbye to her friends.

"When you next sleep," the lady said. "You will have time to say your farewells."

Caroline turned back toward her and bowed her head. "Thank you, my l—"

The Lady in White was gone.

*

Caroline found her friends gathered in Thea's rooms, told them about the Lady's message, and said her goodbyes.

Magda hugged her and wished her well. Zita had a million questions about where she was going, and promised to take good care of the bumbles.

Thea hugged her so tight that Caroline wondered if her bones would break. "You don't have to go," she said, with tears in her eyes. "I don't mind not being the youngest knight."

Adela put one hand on Caroline's shoulder, and looked down at her with quiet pride. "You will do great things in your country, little one."

Petra—seated on a chair because of her still-healing leg--hugged her with one arm. Her eyes were wet. "I'm going to miss you."

Those were the words that lingered in her head as she went to her room for the night. She was going to miss all of them. She was going to miss who she was when she was here. Back home, would she just be little cousin Caroline again?

When she looked at the medal on her wrist—one of the Lady's Knights—those worries melted away. When she fell asleep, she wasn't afraid at all.

*

Caroline woke up in the cellar, flat on her back, as Grandma stood next to her, shouting over her shoulder through the door.

"You've scared her to death, you little monsters!

Caroline sat up. "Grandma, I'm fine."

Grandma knelt beside her, hugged her, checked her for bumps and bruises and signs of concussion. Then she backed out the door and told Caroline, "Get out of this death trap. I'm going to have Grandpa tear that door off the hinges. And maybe sell a couple of grandkids."

Those to-be-sold grandkids stood in a huddle in Grandma's storage room, looking sheepish. "Sorry," Eli said. "That was mean."

Everyone echoed the apology, and Caroline forgave every one.

Later that afternoon, while Caroline sat on the porch marveling at the sun in a pure-blue sky, Melanie—a couple years older than Caroline, and one of the nicest cousins--gave a sincere apology.

"I knew it was mean," Melanie said. "I didn't want to do it, but I was too afraid to speak up."

"It's alright," Caroline said. "It all turned out okay."

"What was it like in there?" Melanie asked. "Were you scared?"