Birds of Many Feathers

  No matter how much he ignored it, insistent gemlight poked Skye with warm fingers. Unwilling to face the day yet, he tugged the covers over his head. Doctor Stenser would expect him in the study soon to read through that dreadfully thick tome on anatomy, which just wouldn’t end no matter how many hours he spent flipping through its pages. It was so deathly dull, Skye would rather spend his time staring through the window, counting gems, or reflecting sunlight at passersby.

  One time, he was so bored, he’d targeted a constable with a shining crystal, then spent a good fifteen minutes laughing as the man searched in fury for the culprit. Skye snickered at the memory, but sobered when he noticed that the covers were thick, scratchy, and reeked, musty and greasy, as if an old person had been sleeping in his bed for months.

  When he opened his eyes, the bird-shaped pattern across the ceiling was gone. Quickly, he flung his covers off, and bolted upright.

  The room was strange, not just because it wasn’t his, but because it seemed alive. Thick wooden branches, gnarly and sprouting leaves, formed the walls, ceiling, and even the furniture. The closets, cupboards, and bed were covered in moss and flowers, some of which had been chewed through. Despite this, the space was tidy—cozy even—twice bigger than his old room at the Medhars’.

  The window was expansive, open to the elements without shutters or glass, as if storms were of no consequence to this room’s owner. Beyond it stretched a forest under a purple-tinged sky, crickets chirping in the distance, birds flying freely. A wide meadow surrounded the building, isolating it from the nearest tree with no wall or protection.

  Unnerved and piqued, Skye peeked outside to discover that this building was in fact one humongous tree.

  Where am I? he wondered as fragments of the previous night returned to him.

  Even his clothes had changed. He now wore a short brown tunic cinched with a thin belt, paired with light green pants.

  “So, you survived another day, congratulations,” Redeyes remarked from behind, lounging on the bed. “Ever consider the universe keeps you alive just to prolong your torment?”

  Skye ignored him, moving to examine the room. The creaking branches underfoot made him tread cautiously as he opened closet after closet. He found only oversized, overused garments, mostly leather and fur, all in varying shades of brown.

  “This is where the hermit from Rierana’s story lives!” Skye exclaimed, eyes alight. “We met him last night. It spoke to me before I passed out!”

  “Oh, please!” Redeyes groaned. “You believe that shelled bear can be trusted? You think its sharp claws and fangs are for tickling and kissing?”

  The bell answered his summons easily, but he swore to himself he’d never use it in captivity again. True, he wasn’t chained, but there was no telling what that creature would do if it found an uninvited stranger in its bedroom.

  Moreover, the two massive doors to this chamber seemed thick and sealed.

  The one on the right was locked, its surface covered in white flowers that buzzed with a faint electrical hum and sparkled with electricity when he approached. The left door, surprisingly, swung open.

  He peered out and found a fifty-foot drop down to what appeared to be a living room below. His hunch had been right. He was a prisoner once more.

  “This seems a good time to learn to fly,” Redeyes said, urging him onwards.

  Skye’s heart raced, feeling tiny legs march over his skin. He did his breathing exercises, slowly calming down. This was different from how he’d reached the dungeon; the bear-tortoise hadn’t attacked him; it had saved his life.

  No, he was safe here. If that creature had wanted to eat him, wouldn’t he already be simmering in a stew? Furthermore, most of his injuries were healed. He felt hale, great actually, with his fatigue and hunger smothered to an inconvenience.

  He scanned the room again, searching for hidden stairs, a ladder, or a lever for a levitating platform like he’d seen in the barons’ vaults. No such luck.

  The only thing he noticed was the spiraling corridor connecting the right door to a room upwards, hedged with the same buzzing white flowers like a coiled lightning bolt.

  “Hello?” he called, leaning over the drop. “Anyone here?”

  “Have you gone mad?!” Redeyes hissed. “If you want to die, at least do it in some interesting fashion. Don’t just… call your murderer over!”

  “There’s no point in waiting,” Skye replied, voice steady. If he was going to die, he was not interested in prolonging his imprisonment. If not, he’d get to meet the hermit face-to-face and learn how they’d survived for so many years with elexii for neighbors.

  “Helloooooo!” he called again.

  Something fluttered behind. A bird landed on the windowsill—the same four-legged, iridescent cockatoo that had saved him from the pyroxos.

  “Oh. My. God!” the bird exclaimed in a high-pitched, excited voice. “You can talk?!” It had an unfamiliar accent, lingering too long on every syllable.

  Before Skye could react, the bird flapped its wings, summoning a gust as it darted toward him. Startled, he stumbled back, his foot slipping over the edge of the open door. He grasped the frame just in time and hauled himself back into the room, retreating as the cockatoo circled him.

  “Wow! Wow! Wow! Wow! This is my first time seeing a talking monkey! Who taught you how to speak? Are there more like you? What else can you say? Can you sing? I can teach you! Repeat after me: Over the blue ocean, gone with the tide…”

  “Wait, stop!” Skye pleaded, raising his hands defensively. “Who are you?”

  “Great! First it was skeletons and a dead rat, and now you’re talking to a bird,” Redeyes threw up his hands in frustration.

  “I’m Rico Chico! Call me Rico. All my friends do. Do you have friends? Can I meet them? Do they also talk? I can teach you to play fetch! Oh my God, we’ll have so much fun!”

  Around the room, Rico chased Skye, bombarding him with questions, giving no chance to reply. When Skye retreated inside the wardrobe and shut the door tight, another set of wings fluttered at the window.

  “What in Lahūtum’s holy name is going on here?” a new, haughty voice said in the same bizarre accent. “Rico, you’ll wake—where is he? Don’t tell me you’ve already eaten the boy.”

  “Luccello! Luccello! Luccello!” Rico squawked, flying to the window. “It’s awake, and it can talk! But it doesn’t know how to sing or fetch, and it’s alone, and it wants to stay!”

  Skye’s heart pounded. This wasn’t a hallucination; these birds were truly speaking.

  He couldn’t hide here forever, but this Rico seemed too… demanding. He’d already seen the bird fight a pyroxos and escape unscathed. Heaven only knew what Rico would do if Skye refused the invitations.

  When he tried to peek at the newcomer, the closet jolted upward. Tilting forward, its doors flung open, tossing him onto the bed. He scrambled to his feet as Rico fluttered excitedly, watching the closet float back to its position, carried by a shimmering curtain of white light.

  Atop the coatrack perched a somewhat familiar alabaster ruff, glaring at him like a bored king at a failed clown.

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  “Why are you here, boy?” the ruff demanded. “My time is precious, my responsibilities many, and you are unworthy of my presence. Speak quickly, or suffer my fury.”

  Skye hesitated, searching for an escape route. There was nowhere to run. This was the scenario he’d feared in the dungeon, but instead of wardens interrogating him, it was a pair of magical birds.

  “My name is Skye, and I—”

  “I did not ask for your name!” the ruff snapped. “Why are you here? Why do you seek the master?”

  The master? Is that what they call the hermit?

  “I wasn’t seeking anyone,” Skye replied. “I was lost and under attack, and you brought me here!”

  The ruff’s sharp eyes bore into him, as if deciding how many fingers needed to be broken to get the truth. Skye was still unsure how to save his skin when Rico broke the silence.

  “See, Luccello, see? It can talk, it even has a name! Can we keep it, can we, please? I’ll feed it, bathe it, and take it for walks!”

  The notion of being treated as a pet made Skye’s skin crawl.

  “Not while my wings flap!” Luccello screeched. “His presence would cost the master precious time. Besides—” The ruff fluttered down to perch on Skye’s shoulder, trailing a faint glow. “This is no ordinary monkey. This is a human Adamian, one of the most devious, disloyal, and dangerous creatures in this Dunya.”

  Dunya, Skye thought. Wasn’t that what scholars called the mortal world? And what in the Void was an ‘Adamian’?

  “This one is clever,” Redeyes said.

  “More dangerous than the fiery elementals?!” Rico gasped.

  “The elementals are reasonable by comparison,” Luccello replied.

  Rico’s feathers bristled. His cheerful demeanor twisted into something savage as his body enlarged, talons and beak elongating. A bloodlust replaced the joy in his eyes. “Then we should kill it now. Kill it before it harms the master!”

  His blood running cold, Skye searched frantically for a weapon or a hiding place. Could he make it under the bed and cast his curse in time?

  “No,” Luccello said, raising a glowing wing to shield Skye. “This one is too weak to harm a hair on the master. And it owes us a debt.”

  “What debt?” Skye asked, stalling as he edged closer to the bed. “I just got here.”

  “What debt?!” Luccello ruffled his feathers. “You’ve hogged the master’s bed while he slept in the open! And if that’s not enough, know he spent the entire night healing your filthy body. Do you know how precious our master’s time is? Even if the sun were to set a thousand times while you worked to repay his kindness, it would never be enough.”

  Skye paused. Again, he’d been a burden to someone, needing care and cleaning. He had to thank this master.

  “Can I see your master?” he asked. “I’d like to show my gratitude.”

  “Not while my beak clicks!” Luccello swatted the back of Skye’s hand. “You’re an enigma. Untrustworthy. You had no astrum when we found you, yet you survived long in the forest alone. You were contaminated and painted with bruises, yet you’re still alive. For all we know, you have the devil’s support!”

  “More like the devil’s misfortune,” Redeyes corrected.

  Luccello puffed his feathers. “I will now decide whether you are worthy of meeting our master, so state your case.”

  “I’d like to thank him in person,” Skye said carefully. “If he invested all that time in healing me, don’t you think he’d like to see me?”

  “I think he’s right, Luccello,” Rico chimed in, shrinking back to his normal size. “He’s so harmless, and little, and I think he’d look cute if we dressed him with flowers and roses from the garden.”

  “Not while I have feathers!” Luccello slapped Skye yet again. “The master’s treasured flora is not to be wasted on the likes of him.”

  “What’s the name of your master, anyway?” Skye asked.

  Luccello cleared his throat, but Rico was faster. “He’s Master Ku, the greatest teacher who’s ever lived!”

  Skye wracked his memory but came up empty.

  “You don’t know him?!” Luccello squeaked, his little face scrunching with indignation. “I have never been insulted by someone’s sheer ignorance before, but this is too much! Master Ku Lala Btal is the most renowned tutor of magic in the Dunya. Most of the greatest channelers you’ve heard of were trained by him. He was the chief tactician of the United Army in the La’en Wars, the general of the Incorporeal Corps. He’s a pioneer whose research and innovations in the fields of fantasia and astra are the foundations on which modern-day magic theories are built. And he is the one and only Keeper of Heroes, Legends and Myths.”

  None of these titles made sense to Skye, but the word “Keeper” caught his attention. He’d read about the Keepers once, in a heavily redacted book. They were inhuman monsters who ruled as tyrants long ago, torturing and killing innocents for their amusement. But his personal experience so far had taught him that this Keeper was kind.

  “Goodness above!” Luccello exclaimed. “You have no clue what I’m talking about, do you? Have you spent your entire life living under a rock?”

  Skye shrugged matter-of-factly. “Troqua is an underground city. We don’t get many visitors.”

  “City?!” Rico squawked. “There’s a city nearby full of little humans like you? How many are there? Luccello, can we get some, please, please, pretty please?”

  “We are not keeping any humans here!” Luccello flew back to the coatrack. “Enough talking. If you can stand and argue, you’re ready to leave.”

  With a wave of his wing, a curtain of light appeared behind Skye, pushing him toward the door. The light was warm and fuzzy, and goosebumps rose wherever it touched his skin.

  “Wait,” Skye protested, hanging onto the bed’s footboard. “I have a question for your master. I know he’s a good person. He helped someone I know a long time ago. Do you know Doctor Stenser?”

  “Aha! My intuition was correct,” he declared, flying to hover in front of Skye. “You did come seeking the master, and it was that failure of a doctor who sent you. He should be ashamed, he’d already wasted much of the master’s time, and now he demands more? No! You’re leaving now.”

  Skye’s nose flared. “Don’t you dare insult Doctor Stenser!” He punched the curtain of light, dissipating it like mist. “He’s the best doctor in Troqua. He’d saved thousands of lives!”

  Luccello soared upward, out of reach. “If that’s true, then why didn’t Stenser teach you how to properly administer Iggy’s Panacea? Your body was devouring itself, your organs melting to provide the nutrients the panacea needed. Had we found you a day later, you’d have been shriveled as a mummy. For all accounts, Stenser should be punished for giving you that medicine.”

  Skye deflated, staring down in shame. His actions had ruined Stenser’s reputation in the eyes of these birds, and they were bound to inform their master.

  “Do you think it’d help our case to admit we stole it?” Redeyes asked.

  No, Skye thought bitterly. That’d only make them distrust me more. Reluctantly, he let go of the footboard. The most prudent course of action now would be to leave and start afresh.

  “All right, I’ll leave,” Skye agreed. “But I can’t get down on my own. Can you help me?”

  “This is weird,” Rico declared, tilting his head. “I’ve seen monkeys in the forest fling themselves across trees. Why can’t you get down on your own?”

  “For the second time, Rico, he’s not a monkey,” Luccello said, sighing as he formed a light carpet under Skye. “Monkeys have long tails and hair all over their bodies.”

  “Not all of them do,” Rico countered. “I once met a hairless monkey that threw poo at me. It’s true.”

  “What?!” Luccello screeched, spinning on Skye. “Any poo-flinging performed on or near the estate will be severely punished.”

  “Humans don’t throw poo,” Skye stated, affronted.

  “Swear it!” Luccello demanded. “Swear that you’ve never known a human to throw poo.”

  “Well…” Skye hesitated, recalling a certain incident with a crazed man in the Coals.

  “See? See?” Rico squawked triumphantly, bouncing on his talons. “I told you they throw poo!”

  “There are millions of us; I can’t guarantee every single person acts decently,” Skye argued, crossing his arms. “And you two have no right to accuse me of such things! You’re birds. Birds piss everywhere! The roofs and carriages in our city are littered with bird poo. I’ve even had a bird once poop in my food!”

  Rico gasped, scandalized.

  “Perhaps your city is so uncivilized it looks like a toilet from above,” Luccello shot back smugly. “Think about that next time you eat bird poo.”

  Skye’s nostrils flared. This egotistic bird had no right to insult his city. “My favorite food is eggs. Bird eggs,” he said through clenched teeth.

  Rico gasped harder.

  “I like to boil them, fry them," Skye continued with a hiss. "I mix them with tomatoes and onions to make omelets. I even eat them raw!”

  Shrieking, Rico flapped his wings in panic and flew away. “Devil! Devil!” he screeched.

  “Enough of this!” Luccello bellowed, levitating the light carpet and carrying Skye down. He was a luminary, a channeler who could create and manipulate light, like Gideom. But Luccello’s abilities were leagues beyond anything Skye had seen before. Carrying a person with light was no elementary skill, yet Luccello managed it effortlessly.

  This Master Ku must be quite the teacher if he’d trained Luccello to this level. Perhaps he, with his specialty in healing, could somehow help Skye.

  The light platform descended gently into a grand hall. The space was crowded with books, stacked neatly, or propped open on stands. A long sofa faced the hearth, and a rocky chair sat empty nearby. Some of the many doors were open, revealing glimpses of a small kitchen and a storage closet, while others were shut tight. A few were even draped with those strange, buzzing white roses.

  “Please deliver my thanks to the master,” Skye said, knowing they’d forget him soon. “And thank you, Luccello, for carrying me. And you too, Rico, for saving me back in the forest.”

  “Don’t mention it!” Rico chirped.

  “Why? What did Rico do?” Luccello asked, scowling.

  “He swooped down at a pyroxos that was attacking me and drove it away,” Skye explained.

  “I said don’t mention it!”

  “You’ve been fighting elementals again?! How many times has the master instructed you to leave the poor things alone? We’ll discuss this later. For now, please exit this way.”

  Poor things? Skye thought in bafflement. Is he talking about the elexii?

  The birds flew ahead, opening the treehouse’s main door. A soft breeze wafted in, carrying earthy scents from the meadow beyond: jasmine, citrus, and a sharp, invigorating aroma of mint that grew stronger as Skye approached.

  Just as he was about to step outside, bulky, tawny roots shot up from the doorframe, weaving into a net that blocked his way.

  “That is a problem,” Luccello said, hovering outside.

  “I didn’t do anything!” Skye protested, stepping back.

  Slowly, the roots receded, vanishing into the frame.

  “This is a security measure installed by the master,” Luccello explained. “Your fantasia needs to be cleansed before the Hazir roots will let you leave.”

  “I’ll get the master then!” Rico offered. “He must be resting nearby.”

  “Not while I still chirp!” Luccello cawed. “There’s no need to pester him with something so trivial. Find Pairi instead, he could be south at the lake, or searching for emerald berries near the northern mountains.”

  “I’ll go north then!” Rico declared, zipping away.

  “Wait right where you are and don’t go peeping. There are more lethal security measures installed around the house,” Luccello warned as he shot away as well.