Too late for that, Felicity thought.
Still, the queen’s words helped Felicity gain enough strength to pull herself out of her stupor and tear her eyes from the towering bird.
Shaking her head to clear her thinking, Felicity hopped around him to the stone wall that rose up in front of her face.
Above her, the light from the green mushroom glowed out from the shallow alcove in the wall.
Hopping into the air, she fluttered up until her feet caught on a pebble jutting out from the lip of the little hollow.
Grak was right behind her now. She could hear his deep, steady breathing and she felt tempted to turn and look.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she focused her eyes on the contents of the little alcove.
The glowing mushroom grew up out of a bed of moist— gunk and illuminated the rows of stones on the wall behind it.
The stones jutted out a little from the wall, and had markings on them, each stone with a number on it; one through nine.
The stones, except for the one at the top left that had the number ‘1’, also had a few letters each.
So she needed to peck out some pattern. But what could it be?
She shifted her weight, painfully aware of the creature’s steady breathing behind her.
Felicity almost looked, but stopped herself in time. She closed her eyes, focusing on her beating heart and wishing she could think more clearly.
How near was sunset?
Felicity opened her eyes and fluttered her wings, determined not to think about such things.
Her eyes moved over the rows of stones, wondering what the pattern was, and how she could guess it.
Her gaze stopped when she noticed something scratched into the stone wall nearly at its base.
The fat cap of the mushroom partly hid the words, but by tilting one way and then the other she could see the writing.
The scratched letters looked similar to what she had seen on the front door.
Felicity heaved a sigh. Another riddle.
Chapter 12
Felicity fluttered a little, keeping her balance on the stone lip of the little hollow in the wall. She needed to guess the riddle to open the queen’s cell just like she’d had to guess the riddle on the front door to open it. But instead of speaking it, she needed to peck the stones that spelled out the answer.
How could she guess this riddle? Like the riddle on the front door, the answer was likely something very different from what she might first expect. But it would still make sense.
Should she hop back to the queen and ask her help in solving the riddle? Maybe, but that would take time and she would rather not hop back past Grak if she could figure out the riddle on her own.
Felicity sighed. What grew the more it ate? Pretty much everyone. Yet what died if it was given water? Everything alive needed water to live, so—
So it wasn’t alive.
Felicity’s heart leaped as her eyes fixed upon the word ‘ASHES’!
That was a clue!
Ashes are made by fire!
Fire grew the more it was fed; but it died, a pile of damp ashes, if water fell on it!
Felicity nearly chirped in excitement that she had guessed the riddle so fast, but knowing who loomed behind her, she didn’t dare make a noise.
She studied the stones above her. The letter ‘F’ was scratched beneath the number ‘3’ on the stone in the upper right corner of the group. The ‘I’ was on the stone on the left side of the middle row below the number ‘4’. The ‘R’ was on the bottom left corner below the ‘7’. And the last letter, ‘E’, was back on the ‘3’ stone, just beside the ‘F’.
“Three, four, seven, three,” Felicity said beneath her breath. “Those are the stones I need to peck.”
Pleased with herself, Felicity reached out to peck the ‘3’.
A crackle rattled her ears as a shock of pain raced through her from her beak down to her tail and Felicity jerked back. Her ears rang and her muscles jerked. A crackling sheet of something that looked like tiny bolts of lightning flickered in front of her beak.
She froze and shut her eyes, fearing the sound had wakened Grak. She did not dare look, but his breathing continued, unbroken. Relief crept through her aching body. He hadn’t woken. But she hadn’t even touched the stone either. Like something kept her out. Some kind of invisible fence.
Grak had been able to reach in to peck the stones, though. How come she couldn’t?
Perhaps the sorcerer had made an enchantment that kept all others out but himself.
How could she save the queen now? Wake the Night Hawk and ask him to undo the lock? Of course not! Felicity shook her head. But how could she get past the invisible fence if only Grak could cross it?
Felicity’s eyes narrowed but then widened at a hopeful thought. What if it only had to be a part of Grak? Like one of his feathers?
She couldn’t pull one out of him. That would hurt, and he’d wake up! But what if—
Felicity’s heart jumped. That feather!
That single molted feather longer than her whole body. It was still down there!
Just maybe—
She kept her focus from going to Grak as she spread her wings and dropped down from the lip of the alcove.
Hopping back around the huge bird, she found the long grey feather lying there just beneath the sharp spears of his curved toes.
Bending her head she took the quill in her beak, ignoring its pungent taste.
But then something happened.
Grak’s breathing changed a little. A deep grumble echoed through the chamber. And in front of her face his toes uncurled.
Terrified, Felicity fell backward, sprawling on the stone floor, her wings outspread. In another moment his head would lift, and eyes, burning with fury, would look down at her over his terrible curved beak.
But nothing happened.
Grak only shifted his weight, grumbled, and went on sleeping.
Felicity rolled to her feet. She shook herself and turned back to pick up the feather again—
Only to see it curled beneath two of Grak’s toes.
Oh dear.
She looked over her shoulder.
Across the distance, she could see the fairy queen watching.
The queen’s hands clutched the bars of her cage as she peered through, her face white and tense.
Colin’s face would be just as worried as he waited back home for Felicity to return with his mother. And so would his dad’s.
Felicity couldn’t let any of them down.
Drawing in a deep breath, she pulled all her courage in. She took a timid hop forward. Then another. And then she stood right at Grak’s feet.
She bowed her head and took the quill in her beak. She pulled it a little, allowing herself a breath of relief as the plume began to slide through his toes.
Felicity’s heart thumped as the feather whispered through Grak’s talons. Could he feel the stiff plumes tickling his feet?
She had to be so careful!
Felicity slid her right foot a little way. Holding her breath, she did the same with her left. Grak continued to sleep. Allowing herself a tentative smile past the quill in her mouth, Felicity continued sliding along the floor, pulling the feather with her. It continued to come further, further. The plume rustled a little as it brushed through his toes—
And then—
It was free.
It fluttered, a bit crumpled, to the floor.
Relief washed through her in a wave.
But Felicity didn’t have time to catch her breath. She was still in Grak’s shadow and sunset couldn’t be very far away.
Balancing Grak’s molted feather in her beak, she hopped around him and fluttered up again to the little stone that jutted from the lip of the alcove.
Past the bitter-tasting feather in her mouth, Felicity drew a deep breath. Either this would work or— She didn’t want to think about it not working.
Cautiously she poked
the quill forward, her eyes half shut in anticipation of the crackle of light and the painful sting that came with it. But nothing happened. The quill continued forward through the invisible wall that would have kept her out, touched the back wall of the alcove, and scraped over the stone.
She drew in a deep breath, drew back a little, and poked the quill at the upper right stone with the ‘3’. It touched the stone. And the stone pushed in!
She drew back, and the stone rose back up again. Felicity drew in another breath before she moved the quill to the ‘4’ and poked at it. The quill scraped a little and Felicity’s heart jumped in her throat when it almost touched the ‘5’ by mistake. What would happen if she pushed the wrong stone by accident?
Felicity’s throat went dry. She didn’t want to find out.
Drawing back, she poked the quill at the ‘4’ again. It touched and the stone sank down, just like the first one.
She drew in a breath, struggling not to gag on the yucky taste of Grak’s feather. Pulling back a little, she let the point of the quill drop until it touched the middle of the stone with the ‘7’ on it. She pushed and the stone went in.
“Ome more,” she whispered past the feather as she drew back. Her beak hurt from the strain of being so careful, and her muscles ached. But she lifted the quill toward the upper right corner again. It wavered a little but Felicity tightened her grip. She ignored the pain in her muscles, touched the quill to the center of the ‘3’ and pushed the stone in.
Behind her a small pop echoed in the cavern, followed by a metallic clank.
She spun around to see the fairy queen push the door of her cage open and stumble out. The feather fell from Felicity’s beak, and fluttered down to the floor beside Grak.
Dropping down to the floor, Felicity hopped past the sleeping Night Hawk as the fairy queen scrambled out into the weak light.
Felicity resisted the urge to chirp in delight as she flutter-hopped across the room.
She reached the queen who threw her arms around Felicity’s neck. Then gripping both of Felicity’s wings, the queen stepped back. She wore the crystal necklace around her neck now.
“Thank you dear, brave Felicity Sparrow,” the queen said, her smile weary but grateful.
There was something wrong with the fairy, but Felicity’s emotions were too great a mixture of joy and haste to think about what it could be.
How near was sunset?
Felicity bobbed her head. “You’re sure welcome, ma’am. But let’s get out of here.”
The queen bit her lip, a doubtful look crossing her face. But she nodded and caught up the hem of her dirty dress as Felicity started to hop toward the darkened tunnel that would lead them out.
“But what will we do once we’re out in the open air?” the queen asked, hurrying behind Felicity.
“Well, um,” Felicity turned to look at the queen. Wasn’t it obvious? “We’ll fly back.”
“Yes,” Queen Lilia agreed, pursing her lips together. “But—”
Felicity stopped at the threshold into the tunnel as the realization hit her like a rock.
“Your wings are gone!” she choked.
“Grak clipped them off.”
Felicity’s eyes widened. “But— I thought fairy wings grew back if they get cut off!”
“They do, but every time they started growing, he clipped them. He wanted to make absolutely sure I couldn’t escape.”
“Ooh,” Felicity seethed. “That— stinker!”
She glared back at the sleeping Night Hawk.
The feather she had used lay rumpled on the stone floor, and in a slightly different place than before. But other than that, Grak didn’t look any different than when Felicity had first hopped into the chamber—
Until he stirred.
Chapter 13
Grak’s head rose from behind him like the snake that had appeared from the grass by the fence.
The blood froze in her veins as everything Felicity imagined Grak to look like, came into view. His hooked beak that glimmered in the light of the mushrooms, his cold eyes—
There seemed to be something wrong with the color of his eyes, but in the dim light, Felicity couldn’t guess what it could be.
Grak looked down at the feather at his feet. He blinked sleepily as he reached for it with a talon, and picked it up. He hadn’t noticed the sparrow and fairy yet.
“This isn’t in the same place,” he said in a rough, deep voice that sounded like he had gravel in his throat.
“Run,” Queen Lilia ordered in a harsh whisper, jerking Felicity out of her terrified stupor.
The queen gathered her skirts in one hand, grabbed Felicity’s wing with the other, then turned and ran into the darkness of the tunnel, pulling the little sparrow along behind her.
The shadows of the corridor swallowed them.
Felicity’s heart felt like it had climbed into her throat as she flutter-hopped with all her might beside the running fairy.
When would Grak noticed the queen missing?
Behind them, Grak’s voice echoed through the tunnel, “Something’s different!”
They rounded the first turn when the hawk’s voice, angry now, rolled over them.
“Someone’s been here! Fairy! Who came in my—”
A deafening silence cut off his words, shredded a moment later by a hawk’s furious shriek.
“What’s this? Nooo!”
A chirp of fright escaped Felicity. He’d discovered the empty cage!
“Where is she? Where— is— my— fairy?”
Crashing and clanking metal echoed down the tunnel. He must have flung the cage clear across the room!
Oh boy, he sounded mad!
“She’s gone!” Grak screeched, his voice shrill with fury. “My fairy’s gone!”
“What are we going to do?” the queen gasped, breathless as she ran.
“We’ll be okay,” Felicity chirped as they rushed around the next bend. “Once we’re out I’ll carry you on my back. And I know the password already. I figured out the riddle on the front of the door.”
The stone that barred their escape came into view, illuminated by the little remaining sunlight that leaked in through the door.
“Rock!” Felicity sang out. “You’re a rock!”
Nothing happened.
Gasping, the fairy and sparrow pulled to a halt.
“Rock, rock, rock!” Felicity cried.
The door did not move.
Behind them, an angry screech echoed through the tunnel.
“Fairy!” Grak shouted. “Fairy, where are you?”
Felicity and Queen Lilia exchanged a terrified glance before lifting their eyes to the door.
Writing scarred this side of the door, too. And it wasn’t the same riddle as on the front.
Queen Lilia breathlessly read the scratched markings on the stone aloud:
Felicity’s heart sank.
“You’re a bird, Felicity! What part of you isn’t in the sky?” the queen pleaded.
“I’m coming to get you, fairy!” Grak’s furious voice shouted. “You can’t escape!”
The sound of Grak’s screeches and threats echoed toward them along the corridor.
Felicity looked back in the direction they’d come. What part of a bird wasn’t in the sky?
“A nest?” she cried, desperate.
Nothing happened.
The queen looked back over her shoulder, struggling to speak in calm tones. “What isn’t in the sky, spreads its wings, can be underwater and not get wet. And it flees if you follow it.”
“I don’t know!” Felicity beat her wings in fright. Her mind flashed over all the books she’d read.
“A penguin?” she wailed.
The door did not respond.
“Try to think like Grak,” the queen pleaded. “After all, he wrote the riddles.”
“I can’t think like Grak!” Felicity insisted. “He’s—”
Felicity cut herself off.
Did she just
maybe know a little bit about how Grak might think? Just maybe?
She lifted her eyes to the riddle.
Even if Grak came out only at night, he would still see many of the same things she did.
Her mind tumbled over all she’d seen as she’d flown through Grak’s domain.
The trees— The moths— The snake— But no.
All of those would get wet if they went in water. And while the moths had wings, they did fly. As for the snake, it didn’t have wings at all. So that didn’t work.
What about things that weren’t alive?
The fence— The old overgrown road for the featherless two-foots’ carts. The beetle—The little stream—
Felicity’s mind screeched to a stop.
Something about the stream she’d flown over, connected to the riddle.
“I can go underwater, and yet remain dry,” she muttered.
Her eyes went wide as she snatched upon a thought, and she opened her beak—
“There you are!”
Felicity’s thoughts flew apart as she and the queen spun around. The hawk, dirty grey and towering above them, stalked round the corner and stopped in the middle of the corridor. He glared at them with eyes that glowed red.
Felicity stiffened with fear. Red eyes!
A wicked smile curled up the corners of his hooked beak.
“And you have a little friend!” he guffawed, his voice making the rock beneath her feet shiver. “I thought you might! You didn’t get out of the guest room all on your own!”
Felicity looked up at Grak as the sorcerer hawk stomped nearer, petrifying her with his red eyes.
She was supposed to do something. What?
She had been thinking about the stream she’d flown over, her own silhouette with wings outspread, darting over the trees and grass, dipping under the water of the stream, rippling across the rocks at the bottom and back out again on the other side, without getting wet!
The hawk strode nearer, his red eyes fixed on her with a look of cruel (and hungry) satisfaction.
“What do you have to say for yourself, sparrow?”
“Um,” she stammered, “shadow?”
~ ~ ~
The hawk came to a dead stop, and the look of triumph on his face melted into angry dismay. “How—?” Grak demanded.
A moment later, the stone door began to scrape across the floor. A slice of dying sunlight spilled into the tunnel and began to widen.
Grak shook his head as if bringing himself out of a stupor. “How did you guess—?” he roared as he scampered forward.