Katherine scooted closer to Mr. Qwerty, peeking at the images of Haroom and the maharaja that now appeared on his pages. How had a slave become the father of a queen?
Mr. Qwerty straightened his pages and continued. “The maharaja loved to hunt and slay all the animals of the wild, and Haroom, who never tired of watching the powerful elegance of wild creatures such as tigers and snow leopards, was an excellent tracker. But he hated to see the animals killed, so when that moment came, he always looked away. As a slave, he could do nothing to stop his master. And so, with Haroom tracking, the maharaja killed one of every beast in his kingdom, lining the palace walls with their heads as trophies. But the one animal the maharaja coveted most continued to elude him.
“In the mountain land ruled by the Sisters of Flight, there dwelled one creature that no slave, man, or ruler had ever seen: the flying elephant of Punjam Hy Loo.”
Katherine was impressed. “A flying elephant?”
Mr. Qwerty nodded. “Indeed, a flying elephant. The maharaja was determined to do anything to have one for his collection, but every time he tried to force his way up the mountain, the elephant army at its base turned him back. He realized that he must find another way to reach Punjam Hy Loo.
“In those ancient times no man had yet discovered the mystery of flight. But after demanding advice from his wizards and soothsayers, the maharaja learned a secret: Children can fly when they dream, and when the Moon shines brightly, their dreams can become so vivid that some of them come true. Sometimes the children remember, but mostly they do not. That is why children sometimes wake up in their parents’ beds without knowing how they got there—they flew!
“The wizards told the maharaja a second secret.” At this, Mr. Qwerty lowered his voice, and all the Guardians leaned closer. “The memory of everything that happens to a child is stored in that child’s baby teeth.
“And so the maharaja’s wizards gave him an idea: fashion a craft of the lost teeth of children and command it to remember how to fly. The maharaja sent out a decree throughout his kingdom, stating that whenever a child lost a tooth, it must be brought to his palace. His subjects happily complied, and it was not long before he had assembled a craft unlike any other the world had ever known.”
Once again an image formed on one of Mr. Qwerty’s blank pages. It was of a ship of gleaming white, fashioned from thousands of interlocking teeth. It had wings on each side of an oval gondola. The inside was lined with sumptuous carpets and intricately patterned pillows. And a single lamp hung from a mast to light the way.
“Meanwhile, the maharaja ordered Haroom to make an archer’s bow of purest gold and one single ruby-tipped arrow. When the weapon was finished, the maharaja ordered Haroom to join him aboard the craft. Then he said these magic words:
“‘Remember,
remember,
the moonlit flights
of magic nights.’
The maharaja’s Flying Tooth Mobile
“And just as the royal wizards had promised, the craft flew silently through the sky, over the jungle, and past the elephants who guarded Punjam Hy Loo.
“They descended from the clouds and flew into the still-sleeping city. In the misty light of dawn, the maharaja could hardly tell where the jungle ended and the city began. But Haroom, used to seeking out tracks, spotted some he had never seen before—tracks that could only belong to the flying elephant, for although they looked similar to a normal elephant’s, his keen eye saw one addition: an extra digit pointing backward, like that of a bird.
“It did not take long to find the flying elephant, sleeping in a nest in the low-lying limbs of an enormous jujube tree. The maharaja raised the golden bow and took careful aim. The tip of the ruby arrow glittered in the first rays of morning sunlight. Haroom looked away.
The flying elephant of Punjam Hy Loo
“Suddenly, there came an intense, cacophonous alarm, as if every creature of Punjam Hy Loo knew of the maharaja’s murderous intent. Charging down from the towers above came the Sisters of Flight, wings outstretched, with all manner of weapons at the ready—gleaming swords, razor-sharp daggers, fantastical flying spears with wings of their own. It was a sight so beautiful, so terrifying that Haroom and the maharaja froze.
“Then the maharaja raised his bow again, this time aiming it at the Sisters of Flight. ‘Look, Haroom, an even greater prize,’ he exclaimed.
“In that single moment Haroom’s whole life changed. He knew, for the very first time, what he wanted. He could not bear to see a Sister of Flight harmed. He ordered the maharaja to stop.
“The maharaja paid his servant no heed. He let loose the arrow. Haroom blocked it. Its ruby tip pierced his chest, and he crumbled to the ground.
“The maharaja stared in shock, then kneeled beside his fallen friend. Weeping, he tried to stop the flow of blood but could not. Haroom was dying.
The Sisters of Flight landed around them. The most beautiful of the sisters, the one the maharaja had meant to kill, approached them. ‘We did not know that any man could be so selfless,’ she said. Her sisters nodded.
“With one hand, she grabbed the arrow and plucked it from Haroom’s chest, then kissed her fingertips and gently touched his wound.
“Haroom stirred, and his eyes fluttered open. All he could see was the face of the Sister of Flight. And all she could see was the brave and noble Haroom.
“He was a slave no more.
“She took his hand, and in that instant her wings vanished.
“The other sisters lunged toward the maharaja in fury. They raised their swords, and Haroom could see they meant to kill his former master. ‘He will no longer harm you,’ he said. ‘Please, let him go—send him on his way.’
“The sisters looked from one to the other, then agreed. But they declared that the maharaja must leave all he brought with him. The golden bow, the ruby-tipped arrow, the flying craft of teeth, and Haroom, his only friend.
“‘And one thing more.
“‘You must also leave your vanity and cruelty behind so that we can know and understand them.’
“The maharaja was heartbroken but agreed.
“The flying elephant glided down from his nest, and with his trunk, he touched the maharaja’s forehead, and all the vanity and cruelty went from him.
“But once these things were gone, there was little left—the maharaja was as simple as a baby monkey. In fact, he even sprouted a tail and scampered away speaking gibberish, shrinking to the size of an infant.
“His vanity and cruelty would never be forgotten—the flying elephant had them now, and an elephant never forgets. As for Haroom and the beautiful Sister of Flight, they were married and lived on in Punjam Hy Loo. Within a year, a child was born. A girl. Selfless like her father. Pure of heart like her mother. She was named Toothiana.”
Toothiana as a child
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Story of Queen Toothiana Continues: A Mystery of Wing and Madness
MR. QWERTY TOOK A sip of tea and continued: “The child of Haroom and Rashmi (for that was Toothiana’s mother’s name) seemed to be a normal mortal child. As there were no other human children living in Punjam Hy Loo, her parents thought it best to raise her among other mortals, and so they settled on the outskirts of a small village at the edge of the jungle. The young girl was well loved and protected and lived a simple, happy life until she was twelve and lost her last baby tooth. That’s when all her troubles began.”
“Troubles?” Katherine asked nervously.
“Yes, troubles,” Mr. Qwerty said. “For when she lost her last baby tooth, Toothiana sprouted wings. By the end of this first miraculous day, she could fly with the speed of a bird, darting to the top of the tallest trees to choose the ripest mangoes, papayas, and starfruit for the children of the village. She played with the birds and made friends with the wind.
“But while the children delighted in Toothiana’s new skill, the adults of the village were bewildered, even frightened, by this half bird,
half girl. Some thought she was an evil spirit and should be killed; others saw ways to use her, as either a freak to be caged and paraded about, or to force her to fly to the palace of the new maharaja and steal his jewels.
“Haroom and Rashmi knew that to keep their daughter safe, they would have to pack their few belongings and escape. And so they did, deep into the jungle. The village children, all of whom adored Toothiana, tried to persuade their parents to leave her alone. But it was no use. The grown-ups of the village had gone mad with fear and greed.
“They built a large cage, hired the best hunters in the land, and asked them to capture the young girl. Among these was a hunter most mysterious. He spoke not a word and was shrouded from head to foot in tattered cloth stitched together with jungle vines. The villagers were wary of him, and even the other hunters found him peculiar. ‘He knows the jungle better than any of us—it’s as if he’s more a creature than a man,’ they remarked quietly among themselves.
“But Haroom and Rashmi were as wily as any hunter. Haroom, knowing everything there was to know about tracking, could disguise their trail so that no one could follow it. And Rashmi, who could converse with any animal, enlisted their aid in confounding the hunters. Tigers, elephants, even giant pythons would intercept the hunters whenever they neared. But the hunters, eager for the riches and fame they’d receive if they caged Toothiana, would not give up.”
Why can grown-ups be so strange and wicked sometimes? Katherine wondered, not asking aloud so as not to stop Mr. Qwerty’s story. He cleared his throat and continued.
Rashmi
“The children of the village were also determined to thwart the hunters. They defied their parents, sending word to Toothiana and her mother and father again and again whenever the hunters were stalking the jungle. Toothiana, wiser still, hid in the treetops by day, only visiting her parents in the darkest hours of the night.
“After weeks of the best hunters in the land failing to capture Toothiana, the cunning villagers became more sly. They secretly followed their children and discovered where Toothiana’s parents were hiding. They left a trail of coins for the hunters to follow. But only one hunter came—the one they almost feared. It was then that the Mysterious Hunter finally spoke. His voice was strange, high-pitched, almost comical, but his words were cold as death. ‘Seize the parents,’ he snarled. ‘Make it known that I will slit their throats if Toothiana does not surrender. That will bring this child of flight out of hiding.’
“His plan made sense; the villagers did as he suggested. They attacked Haroom and Rashmi’s camp. With so many against them, the two surrendered without a fight. They had told their clever daughter to never try and help them if they were ever captured.
“But the Mysterious Hunter had planned for that. He shouted out to any creature that could hear, ‘The parents of the flying girl will die by dawn if she comes not!’
“The creatures of the jungle hurried to warn Toothiana that her parents were doomed if she did not come. Toothiana had never disobeyed her parents, but the thought of them at the dubious mercy of these grown-ups filled her with rage and determination, and she flew straight to her parents’ aid. She dove down from the treetops, ready to kill any who would try to harm her parents.
“But Haroom and Rashmi were brave and cunning as well. Haroom, who had never harmed a living creature, was prepared to stop at nothing to prevent his daughter from being enslaved. And Rashmi, like all Sisters of Flight, had been a great warrior. As Toothiana neared, they slashed and fought like beings possessed. Toothiana flickered back and forth, hovering over her mother and father, reaching for them, but she did not have the strength to lift them up over the angry mob. Rashmi thrust a stringed pouch into her daughter’s hands. ‘Keep these to remember us by. Keep these to protect yourself,’ she pleaded to her child.
“‘Now go!’ commanded her father. ‘GO!’
“With a heartrending cry, the winged girl did as her father ordered. She flew away but stopped, unsure of what to do. Her ears filled with the sound of the vengeful mob falling upon her parents.
“‘Go!’ shouted her mother.
“Toothiana flew wildly and desperately away. And as she went, she screamed from the depths of her soul. It was the scream of two beings: human and animal. It was a scream so pained and fierce that it caused all the villagers who were attacking her parents to go briefly deaf. All except . . . the Mysterious Hunter. He screamed back to Toothiana. His was a scream equally unsettling—a scream of rage and hate that was more animal than human. Toothiana knew in that instant that she had a mortal enemy—one who she must kill or be killed by.
“But for now she would grieve. She flew to the highest treetop and huddled deep inside its foliage. She had no tears, only the blank ache of a now-empty life. She rocked back and forth in a trance of disbelief for a full day and night. Then she remembered the pouch her mother had thrust into her hands. Trembling, she opened it. Inside was a small box carved from a single giant ruby. It was covered in feathery patterns, and Toothiana knew that the box had once been the ruby-tipped arrow that had nearly killed her parents. Inside this beautiful box was a cluster of baby teeth and a note: —
Our Dearest Girl,
These are the teeth of your childhood. If you have them under your pillow as you sleep, or hold it tightly, you will remember that which you need—a memory of happy days, or of deepest hopes, or even of us in better times.
But one tooth is not yours. It is a tooth of amazing power, and from what being it comes from, we do not know.
Use it only in times of the greatest danger or need.
Your Dearest Parents
“Toothiana still did not cry, not even after reading the note. She slept with her baby teeth under her pillow and took solace in the dreams and memories it gave her.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lost Teeth and a Purpose Found
Toothiana stayed in the jungle. She began to hate her wings. Once, she had thought them wondrous things, but now she saw them as the reason for the death of her parents. Her grief and loneliness knew no depths. The creatures of the jungle did what they could to help her, by bringing her food and making her treetop sleeping places as comfortable as possible. The children of the village tried to aid as well, but they now had to be doubly cautious of the village grown-ups.
“As for Toothiana, she became more and more convinced that she belonged nowhere—not among the creatures of the jungle and certainly not among the humans of the village. She was alone. When she was at her very saddest, she would take one of her baby teeth from the carved box she always carried in her mother’s pouch she now wore around her neck, and hold it until it revealed its memories.
“As the lonely years passed, Toothiana saw that the village children lost much of their innocence and some of their goodness as they grew up. She began to collect their teeth, so that, in the future, she could give them back their childhood memories and remind them of their kindness, just as her own parents had done for her.
“Soon the children, not wanting their parents to find out, began to hide their lost teeth under their pillows for Toothiana to find. And she, cheered by this new game of sorts, began in turn to leave behind small bits of treasure she had found in the jungle. A gold nugget here. A sprinkling of sapphire chips there.
“But you can imagine the curiosity that is stirred when a five-year-old sits down to breakfast with an uncut ruby in her palm, or when a ten-year-old boy comes to the table with a pocket full of emeralds. Once again the hearts of the grown-ups filled with greed, and it wasn’t long before they forced their children to tell them how they had come upon those treasures. Soon enough they had laid a new trap for Toothiana.
“One dark, cloudy night Toothiana flew to the village to make her nightly rounds. A boy named Akela had lost his two front teeth, and Toothiana had a special treasure saved for him: two beautiful uncut diamonds. But as she entered his open window, it wasn’t Akela she found. Instead the Mysterious Hunter leaped toward h
er. From behind his shroud of rags, she could see the strangest eyes. Close together. Beady. Not entirely human. And cold with hate.
“Toothiana’s rage clouded her keen intellect. All she could think was, I must get rid of this . . . thing! But before she could act, a steel door slammed down between her and the Hunter. She glanced around with birdlike quickness. The room was not Akela’s bedroom, but, in fact, a cleverly disguised steel cage.
“She was trapped! The villagers cheered as the Hunter hauled away the cage. His platoon of slavelike helpers pulled the wheeled prison away from the villagers and into the jungle. The helpers were as strangely shrouded as the Hunter who commanded them was, and seemed excited by the capture. The children wept, begging their parents to let Toothiana go free. But they would not. The Mysterious Hunter had promised them riches beyond their dreams when he sold Toothiana.
“Toothiana flung herself wildly against the cage, like a cornered eagle. But it did no good. The Hunter and his minions traveled swiftly through the night, deeper into the jungle. They knew the creatures of the wild would try to help Toothiana, so they carried the one weapon every animal fears: fire.
“Torches were lashed to the roof of Toothiana’s cage. The Mysterious Hunter himself carried the brightest torch of all. The animals kept their distance, but they continued to follow the eerie caravan and keep watch over Toothiana, waiting for a chance to strike.
“After days of travel they arrived at the base of the steep mountain of Toothiana’s birthplace—the kingdom of Punjam Hy Loo. The great elephants that guarded the mountain were standing at the ready, shifting back and forth on their massive feet. Toothiana’s jungle friends had warned them that the Mysterious Hunter was headed their way.
“The Hunter did not challenge the elephants. He ordered his minions to halt and made no move to attack. Instead, he held his flaming torch aloft. ‘I bring a treasure to the Sisters of Flight and the flying elephant king who dwell in Punjam Hy Loo!’ he shouted into the night sky. The sky was empty; there was no sign of either the winged women who ruled there, or of the flying elephant.