Felicity~ A Sparrow's Tale Page 3

  But Felicity did not need the guard to hush her in order to fall silent on her own as they stepped over the threshold and passed through the bright doorway.

  Her head lifted and her beak dropped open as the interior of the palace opened to her view.

  Soaring columns of twining vines wove through the walls of the palace, hanging with lamps that looked like flower buds, light gleaming through the closed petals.

  Several other fairy guards, dressed like the ones at the door, stood around the room armed with rose-thorn spears. In the center of the room a pair of thrones that looked like they were made of white, polished wood sat at the top of a round dais reached by three steps.

  The king climbed the steps now. As he turned and sank down into one throne, his smile faded a little and the sadness in his eyes deepened.

  “Come, Mistress Sparrow,” he said, gesturing with his uninjured hand for Felicity to come forward.

  She paused, hesitant. But Colin gave her a gentle pat. “Go on, Felicity,” he said. “I’m right here.”

  What could the king have to talk to her about? She wasn’t Augustus. She was just a plain little sparrow that until today had never even crossed the featherless two-foots’ road let alone gone into the Wildwood.

  She took a hesitant hop, then another.

  Felicity turned to meet Colin’s gaze. He gave her a hopeful grin. She looked back at the king. His face seemed kind but also sad. Her gaze flitted to the empty throne beside the king’s. What had happened to Colin’s mom? Was that what the king brought her here to talk about? But what could she do?

  She had so many questions, but she didn’t dare to ask a single one. At least not right now. She might say something stupid, or rude.

  She swallowed hard, determined to be as careful as she could about everything that came out of her beak.

  She bobbed her head when she stopped at the foot of his throne.

  “Hullo, um, sir,” she said, still not quite sure about the right way to address the fairy king.

  “Hello, Mistress Sparrow.” King Taron’s voice carried a note of humor above the sadness.

  He seemed like such a nice man. She wished he wasn’t so sad.

  “I have a question for you,” the king said and his voice echoed in the room.

  Felicity gulped. What sorts of questions did fairy kings ask?

  Big questions. That’s what.

  Felicity shifted her weight. Silence filled the room.

  She turned and glanced at Colin. Her new friend gave her a faint smile and a nod.

  Felicity turned back to the king. She swallowed before she spoke.

  “Sure,” she said. Her voice quavered only a little. “What was your question?”

  Chapter 5

  “Why did you do it?” the king asked.

  Felicity blinked. “Um, pardon?”

  The fairy king put his free hand upon the arm of his throne and leaned forward. “Why did you save my son?” he asked.

  Felicity tipped her head. Why? Wouldn’t that be obvious?

  “I— I just— well—” She shrugged her wings. “He was going to get smashed against the road. Or squished by one of the featherless— I mean one of the persons’ carts. And the hawk was going to eat him. And I—”

  Felicity stopped, fearing that she may have rambled too much.

  “I just did it,” she murmured.

  “Did you think nothing of yourself?” the king asked. “The hawk could have killed you too, young sparrow.”

  “I didn’t think about the hawk,” Felicity murmured. “I just didn’t want Colin to get hurt.”

  “You have a kind heart,” the king said. “And you did a very brave thing.”

  Felicity looked down, feeling her face growing warm. She shrugged her wings. “Thanks,” she said to the floor.

  “Thank you,” the king returned.

  She studied the pattern that veined through the polished white wood of the floor. “You’re sure welcome, uh, sir,” she said.

  A long moment of silence passed and Felicity did not dare to look up. What should she do now? Was she supposed to leave? Was she supposed to say something witty or clever?

  Felicity shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying not to flutter or hop. That might be rude. But oh, it was hard to hold still!

  “Mistress Sparrow.”

  At his voice in the quiet, Felicity gave an involuntary hop, her wings fluttering before she composed herself and folded them behind her again. “Yes? Er, yes, sir?”

  “I understand you can read.”

  Felicity tipped her head. What was he asking that question for?

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “Um, Augustus taught me.”

  “Indeed?” The fairy king lapsed into silence. His hand brushed over his mouth and a distant look filled his eyes.

  She turned and focused on Colin. The young fairy stood a few steps behind her. Seeing her eye on him, he offered her a faint grin of encouragement.

  “There is something—” the king said at last, “I would like to ask of you.”

  Her focus jerked back to the king.

  “Yesir?” she chirped.

  His eyes grew sorrowful. “Were you to agree, we— I— would be forever in your debt.”

  The king fell silent again as he turned to the throne beside him. He reached out, running his hand along the arm of the empty throne.

  A moment passed. Felicity shifted her weight.

  At last the king heaved a heavy sigh and turned to her again. “My wife, Lilia, Queen of the fairy folk of Wildwood, has been kidnapped.”

  Felicity’s beak fell open, a question almost spilling out before she clapped it shut again, her body tensing as she waited for him to speak his next words.

  “By a wicked sorcerer.”

  Felicity felt her heart drop into her stomach.

  “A— a— Did you say a— sorcerer?” she squeaked.

  “Yes, he did,” Colin said a pace behind her. “A very powerful one.”

  “Um,” she choked. “You mean like a wizard? With magic?”

  “Exactly,” the king said.

  “A featherless two-foot, with a long beard on his face and a big stick?”

  The king’s brow furrowed in confusion. He looked at his son. “A featherless—?”

  “No, he’s not a person,” Colin offered. “His name is Grak the Night Hawk. He’s a—”

  “He’s a nighthawk?” She swallowed at a thickening lump in her throat. “Augustus taught me about nighthawks. I thought they were not so bad. They eat only bugs and um—”

  She let her words die away, fearing that she might be talking too much.

  The king blinked his eyes and the sadness in them mingled with a flicker of anger.

  “The Night Hawk, Grak,” he said, “is nothing like other nighthawks. The true nighthawks, as you have yourself said, are peaceful folk and we have never been at odds with them.

  “Grak, however, is a cruel, unhappy bird that lives alone in a cave high in the cliffs at the north end of the Wildwood. The only thing he has in common with real nighthawks is that he is most active at night. He came to the Wildwood long ago and claimed the north end as his. We fairies, and other good creatures avoid his domain as much as we can. He is a powerful enchanter and he hates all others but himself. Especially anyone he feels threatens his power. And he sees fairies as a threat to his power. The other dwellers of the Wildwood have taken to calling him a Night Hawk because he is seen at night. And only then. In truth no one knows exactly what kind of bird he is or where he came from, for he is slate grey and has no markings.”

  The king heaved a sigh and seemed to slouch in his throne as if he felt very tired. “He has not asked for a ransom or anything else. I do not know why he took her. Perhaps he saw my queen as a threat to his power. Perhaps he wanted to remind all the inhabitants of the Wildwood what a powerful sorcerer he is. Perhaps he was simply being a— a—”

  Silence fell.

  “A jerk?” Felicity
offered in a timid voice.

  The king hit his hand against his throne in frustration, and Felicity jumped a little. “Perhaps,” he said through clenched teeth. “Only the goodnesses know.”

  King Taron looked up but he did not look at the sparrow. Instead, he turned his eyes away as if he gazed at something in the distance. “The queen and several other fairies were above the treetops gathering cottonwood down that day. The sun set but the twilight lingered and I suppose Lilia wanted to gather a few more tufts before coming home.”

  He heaved a deep sigh. “That is when Grak came upon them without warning. The others were able to escape, but he captured the queen and carried her away. We know where she is but we cannot rescue her. We have tried—”

  The king’s voice broke and his fingers touched the sling cradling his injured arm. “But Grak has enchanted his border so that fairies cannot pass it.”

  King Taron finished with a prolonged sigh and then a heavy silence filled the room.

  “Golly,” Felicity whispered. “I— I’m so sorry.”

  At her words, the king looked up again and a faint smile touched his lips. “You are a kind and brave young sparrow,” he said. “And perhaps with your help, we can get her back.”

  “Pardon?” Felicity squeaked. She beat her feathers against the air and hopped backward in surprise. “You think that I can rescue somebody from an evil wizard?”

  She looked from the king to the guards and behind her to Colin. If they had tried to rescue the queen and failed, what made them think that a mere sparrow could get past the Night Hawk sorcerer’s enchantments?

  “I— I’m not Augustus. I’m not an ivory-billed woodpecker. I’m just a sparrow. There are a million, a billion, a quadrillilion—”

  Felicity stopped herself. There was probably no such word as quadrillilion and this was no time to be inventing words.

  “There are many other sparrows just like me,” she continued. “I’m not special.”

  At her words, King Taron leaned forward in his throne. He studied her, his gaze both stern and gentle.

  “Oh, I must disagree with you, Mistress Sparrow.” His voice sounded warm and kind as he spoke. “For no matter how many sparrows there are in the world, there is only one you.”

  She looked up at him.

  “You are very special. Whether you know it or not.”

  “But Augustus,” she said, her voice small. “He was the only one who could help.”

  “So we thought,” Colin admitted stepping to her side. “Before we met you.”

  The king’s fingers tightened on the arm of his throne. “After he took Lilia, Grak cast wicked enchantments and spells that keep fairies out when we try to pass his borders. But the enchantment that keeps us from crossing the border of his domain does not work on birds. A simple bird like an ivory-billed woodpecker or, in your case, a sparrow, can cross over the edge of Grak’s borders.”

  “But— um, no other birds could help?” she wondered aloud. “I mean, well, the ones that aren’t wicked, anyway?”

  The king inclined his head at her question. “We have allies here in the Wildwood. Birds who are friendly to our kind and who would try to help save Queen Lilia if they could. But Grak knows this and has conjured up other spells, other enchantments that turn them back as well.”

  Felicity gulped. “What sorts of— enchantments?”

  “Spells that they say— frighten them,” the king said. He traded a somber look with his son. “Grak is clever and resourceful. One must never let his guard down if he is within the borders of Grak’s domain.”

  “Oh golly,” Felicity breathed.

  The king heaved a sigh. “Despite these enchantments, several brave birds made it to the cliffside where Grak’s lair is found. But there, they discovered one enchantment that none of them could get past. An enchantment that can only be undone with a certain password.”

  Felicity rocked from one foot to another. “But if they didn’t know the password, how could Augustus know it? Or I?”

  Deep lines formed on King Taron’s brow.

  “Because the birds who reached Grak’s lair reported that just within the entrance there is a stone door shut tight that has as they said, strange markings scratched into it. Small, deliberate markings that follow one another in a straight line. Such were their words.”

  “Markings—” Felicity paused and held very still, mulling over the king’s words. She tipped her head. “You mean— writing?”

  “We think that upon this stone the password is written.” King Taron said. His eyes held a pleading look. “We think that the one who reaches this door must read the words out loud and that doing so will open the doorway into Grak’s lair. But none of our avian allies have learned to read. That skill, we thought, was possessed by no other birds but the ivory-billed woodpeckers. That is why we believed no other bird could help us but Augustus.”

  “Until we met you,” Colin added.

  “Yes.” The king looked at his son. “To have even the faintest chance of getting inside Grak’s lair, you must be a bird. And you must be able to read.”

  “Oooh.”

  Felicity felt a sudden weight in her stomach. Without Augustus then, she was the only bird in the whole world— well, the only one she knew of anyway, who could help these folks.

  “A sparrow who can read can help just as easily as an ivory-billed woodpecker who can read,” Colin said.

  Felicity sighed a quick breath and fluttered her feathers. This was becoming more and more like the adventures in her books. Special missions, magic, evil wizards—

  But now, it wasn’t somebody else being asked to go save the day. It was her! Felicity Sparrow. Her own plain little self. She could get hurt. Maybe even eaten! After all, the fairies called Grak a Night Hawk. So whatever he was or used to be, he probably was a hawk or a falcon or something that liked to snack on small animals. Like sparrows.

  Felicity shuddered. She very much did not want to face Grak the evil wizard Night Hawk.

  Saving Colin hadn’t been a choice. Well, maybe it had been, but it hadn’t been one she’d thought about consciously. She’d just done it. But this—

  She wanted to help, but she was scared! Was it this scary for the heroes in her books?

  She looked up at King Taron.

  Then she looked over at Colin.

  The young fairy swallowed as their eyes met. It was his mom Grak had locked away somewhere, sad and alone and waiting for somebody, anybody to come and rescue her. The poor lady! Wherever Colin’s mom was, she was probably pretty scared too.

  At this thought, Felicity’s tail fluttered and she lifted her head. If Augustus was here he’d say the same thing and she hoped he would be proud.

  “Sure,” she said. “I’ll try my best.”

  Beside her, a breath escaped Colin as if he’d been holding it. Then she felt his hand on her wing.

  “Thank you, Felicity,” he said. His voice cracked as he spoke.

  She looked at him, surprised to see his eyes shining with tears.

  In front of them, his father rose from his throne and came down the steps. She could still see sadness in the king’s eyes. But now, she could see warm gratitude, and hope as well.

  King Taron strode toward Felicity, his wings glimmering in the light of the fairy lanterns. He stopped in front of her. His good hand reached out and rested on her other wing.

  “Thank you Mistress Sparrow,” he murmured.

  Felicity bobbed her head. “You’re very welcome, sir,” she said.

  And even though she felt a wave of uncertainty and fear as she thought about what she had just agreed to, Felicity still meant every word.

  Chapter 6

  After a lovely supper of sunflower seeds, oats, and corn (the fairies didn’t seem to have a liking for insects, which Felicity thought unfortunate) a young fairy maid showed her to one of the spare rooms in the palace.

  The warm nest of cattail fluff the fairies made for her was softer than anything s
he’d ever slept in and she snuggled down comfortably.

  But once Felicity fell asleep, nothing but evil things filled her dreams the whole night. Spooky things that wooshed through the air, chasing her through a dark forest. Felicity couldn’t see them. She didn’t even know what they were, and no matter how fast she flew, they only got closer, and closer!

  She woke kicking and flapping to see a shadow hovering over her.

  “Awgah!” she squawked before she recognized Colin.

  “Sorry,” he whispered.

  “It’s okay,” she said rubbing the sleepiness from one eye with the shoulder of her wing. It felt like early morning. A lamp glowed out in the corridor and shone through her open door, illuminating a small table where a breakfast of more seeds waited for her. “Just a bad dream.”

  “Are you alright?”

  “I— I guess.”

  He reached out and gave her shoulder a sympathetic pat. “Well,” he said, his voice apologetic, “It’s—”

  “It’s time to go,” she sighed. “Okay, then.”

  Ruffling her feathers, she hopped out of her nest.

  ~ ~ ~

  As Felicity hopped through the palace a step behind Colin, she noticed that the torn remnants of his wings from the day before were gone.

  Little wings, like tiny rainbow-colored flower petals, had sprouted in their place on his back.

  Felicity smiled to see them.

  Colin led her out of the palace and along the walkways of the fairy community.

  She saw only a few fairies out now, flitting through the nearby branches or walking along the hanging pathways.

  Even though she could not see the sky from here, Felicity guessed that the sun had not come up yet, and most of the fairies, just like her, were still waking up.

  The pathway came at last to one of the smooth barked trees that formed one corner of the fairy city. Colin followed the path as it curved around the tree, and Felicity hopped along at his side.

  The path ended at a small platform jutting out on the far side of the tree.

  The dimness of the forest beyond contrasted with the fairy lights behind her, and Felicity had to blink as her eyes adjusted to the shadows.

  King Taron, his injured arm resting in its sling, stood waiting for her as she rounded the curve of the tree. A group of four guards stood with him.

  He smiled as Felicity and Colin appeared. And as she drew near, the king stepped forward and placed his free hand on her wing like he had the night before. His grip felt strong, but gentle too.