“Wha—” Felicity muttered to herself. “You’re a moth!”
As if suddenly aware that she could see it, the moth stiffened and turned away, showing her the backs of its wings again.
“I saw that!” Felicity exclaimed. “I was scared of a bug!”
She beat her wings against the air. “You’re all bugs!”
What looked like faces were actually the wings of moths; the eyes, mouths, and sharp teeth were only markings on the wings.
“You’re not scary anymore!” she said, narrowing her eyes.
She fluttered off the branch and toward the moths. “Now shoo, before I eat you!”
The moths seemed to understand this, because they fluttered up and darted away over the treetops, weaving and bobbing in their haste before they dropped down into the trees and disappeared.
Felicity sniffed to herself, then grinned.
For the enchanted minions of an evil wizard, the moths seemed pretty wimpy.
Hopping off the branch, she spread her wings and turned once more toward the craggy cliffs in the distance.
Chapter 8
The cliff seemed to grow darker and more forbidding the closer she flew to it.
Even though Felicity felt pleased that she hadn’t let the spooky-faced moths scare her into flying back to the fairies, she felt worried. What other frightening things would she find before she reached Grak’s cliff?
She pondered this question as she flapped along, her shadow rising and falling against the tops of the trees beneath her, but now a little bit over to her right.
Abruptly, her shadow fell away and became a small spot of dark against waving tops of grass.
Felicity blinked at the unexpected disappearance of the trees as a wide clearing spread out below her, walled in all around by tall trees and carpeted with thick grass.
Felicity glanced from one edge of the clearing to the other. This treeless space seemed harmless enough for being in the middle of an evil wizard’s domain. It didn’t look very remarkable either, except for a long chain-link fence that stretched down the middle of the clearing. The fence didn’t look like it had been put there recently. Rust caked the evenly spaced poles that held up the fence and discolored many of the woven wires that formed the diamond shaped links.
From what Felicity could see, the fence didn’t stop at the edges of the clearing but continued on into the shadows of the forest. As if the fence went on indefinitely, almost like the impenetrable wall of a fortress or medieval city. A little stream even trickled across the clearing, parallel to the near side of the fence, like a castle’s moat.
But unlike the high walls and towers that the magicians in her stories built around their own dreary keeps, the fence couldn’t have been put here by Grak. Fences were only built by featherless two-foots, the creatures that the fairy folk called persons (a funny word Felicity thought, that didn’t mean anything much). No hawk could go and build a chain-link fence. Even if he was the most powerful sorcerer in the world.
Felicity dropped from the air, slowing her flight as she neared the fence.
As she darted over the stream, her shadow tumbled down into the water, crossed the pebbly floor, and rose out on the other side, dancing over the waving tops of the grass.
Nearing the fence, she noticed a rusted sign wired to the diamond shaped rungs pronouncing the weather-faded order that there must be:
Ignoring the sign’s edict, Felicity settled in a crook of one of the topmost links of the fence.
She folded her wings and looked down, inspecting the worn metal beneath her toes. She flutter hopped from one piece of twisted wire to the next, gripping it and testing it with her talons. It was a real fence, alright. Not a massive stone wall disguised as a fence. And aside from being where no featherless two-foots had been in a long time, it didn’t seem to be much different from any other chain link fence she’d ever seen.
It didn’t seem to possess any particular magical qualities. And despite the sign, it didn’t seem very able to actually keep any trespassers out.
Still, with what she had seen already, it might be a good idea to try and keep an open mind. Felicity had learned from her encounter with the moths that she could not trust anything in Grak’s domain to be what it appeared. Perhaps featherless two-foots had put this fence here long ago, but now, more than likely, Grak used it for his own devious plans.
Looking around, Felicity’s eyes trailed to two parallel tracks that ran along the north side of the fence from one end of the clearing to the other.
“Wheel tracks!” she whispered to herself. “Made by featherless two-foots’ carts!”
She fluttered her wings and fanned her tail, pleased that she recognized what they were. But the little road hadn’t been traveled in a long time. The tall grass growing beside and between the wheel ruts made them almost invisible, except from here, where she perched atop the fence.
Felicity beat her wings and looked up. The sun had passed the middle of the sky, and was slowly sliding down toward the west. She should keep moving. Especially if something wicked lived around here that she hadn’t seen yet. Best to get past it before it scared the wits out of her like the moths had. Fanning her tail, she bent her legs to launch off of the fence when something on the ground in one of the grassless wheel tracks caught her attention.
Felicity’s eyes opened wide and then a smile spread across her beak at the sight of the fat beetle trundling along over the dirt. Oh, it looked juicy!
Diving off the fence, Felicity swooped down and landed on the ground beside the beetle.
“Hello!” she chirped before snatching the beetle up in her beak. Its six legs wiggled in the air as she prepared to munch it down.
“Well, hello yourssself, sssparrow,” said a smooth voice.
Surprised, Felicity spat out the bug. She eyed it suspiciously as it rolled to its feet and continued creeping along on its way. It seemed hardly put out that it had almost been eaten.
“You didn’t say anything,” she muttered accusingly as the bug disappeared in the tall grass.
“Of courssse it didn’t sssay anything,” the same silky smooth voice replied. “Sssilly sssparrow. It’sss an insssect. Insssectsss don’t ssspeak.”
The voice had come from behind her.
Fluttering around, Felicity’s eyes went wide at the sight of the strange creature that looked at her from the tall forest of grass.
Unblinking black eyes studied her from a long face covered in shining scales. Its head gleamed black, while its chin and throat were pale; almost white.
“Um, hello,” she said.
“Greetingsss.” A long tongue, forked and pointy at the end came from between its motionless lips, waved in the air a moment and then disappeared back into its mouth.
The face, nearly lying on the ground, moved forward out of the grass toward her. Its eyes sparkled, yet its expression stayed blank.
Good gracious. This had to be another enchantment of Grak’s. There was nothing else it could be.
Felicity hopped backward, and backward again. She blinked her eyes and shook her head. She had to be seeing things. This creature, whoever it was, had no legs! Just a head and a long, long body. She couldn’t even see the end of it yet. The creature just kept coming. And coming. It reminded her of— those telephone wires that featherless two-foots strung between tall, leafless trees. Did it have any end to it?
Even though she could see nothing about it that seemed dangerous (how could it be, when it didn’t even have any claws, or a sharp beak?) she sensed something ominous about it. Something that filled her with a vague nervousness she couldn’t quite put a foot on.
“Sssweet little sssparrow,” the creature hissed in a soft, sibilant voice. “What hasss brought you ssso far from home? Are you lossst?”
“You’re— you’re just an enchantment,” she said to herself. “You’re not real.” She lifted her chin and fluffed up her feathers. “I’m not scared of you!”
The creature’s expr
ession didn’t change but its eyes flashed as its long tongue shot out again from between its scaly lips, flitted in the air for a second then disappeared back into its mouth.
“Of courssse I’m not real,” it soothed. “I don’t exissst. I am jussst an illusssion. There’sss no need to be ssscared.”
Felicity hopped backward along the hard dirt track, fluttering her wings.
Even though she couldn’t figure out why she felt so jumpy, her instincts screamed for her to keep away from the creature.
“Why?” she asked, her voice barely over a whisper as she continued to hop backward keeping well away from the slinking creature. “If you’re not real why do you want me to be not afraid of you? If you’re not real then, well, Grak made you only to scare folks, right?”
The creature paused. Its eyes fixed upon Felicity. They didn’t blink. At all.
Again, the long tongue flitted out, waved in the air, then disappeared back into its mouth.
“Sssuch a sssmart little sssparrow,” it hissed sweetly. “Ssso many quessstionsss.”
It crept forward but Felicity retreated several hops.
“Come clossser and I will anssswer them for you.”
Its expression didn’t change but Felicity sensed an impatient tension in its otherwise smooth voice as it seethed, “Come clossser sssparrow. I promissse. You can trussst me. There’sss no need to be uneasssy.”
“Hold on just a minute,” she said.
If this long legless creature was just some enchantment that Grak had conjured, why didn’t it want her to be scared? What purpose did it have if it wasn’t to get folks to go away? Why did it want her to come closer if it was just an illusion, like the moths?
Well, no, the moths hadn’t been illusions exactly. They’d really been there. She’d just misunderstood what she had seen.
Something inside her told her that whatever this creature was, it was real. And unlike the moths, it was more dangerous that it wanted her to think.
“What are you?” she demanded.
“Doesss the little sssparrow not know?” the creature asked. Its voice didn’t sound soft and soothing but had grown harsh. Its body folded tightly, its eyes casting off menacing sparks. “Then I will ssshow you!”
Felicity’s eyes went wide. Some instinct twisted her insides. ‘Fly now!’ the feeling screamed. And she obeyed the silent cry by leaping up into the air a split second before the creature sprang at her.
A chirp of alarm escaped her beak as her outspread wings thrust skyward. Glancing down, she saw for the briefest moment, the creature’s mouth open just under her curled toes. Several small but sharply pointed teeth gleamed in the sunlight, its mouth so wide she could see far down into the darkness of its long throat before its jaws snapped shut and it fell back.
The creature tumbled onto the ground, coiling like a rope and hissing up at her.
“I know what you are, now!” Felicity cried, clenching the top of the chain link fence with her talons.
Augustus had taught her about these creatures when she was a hatchling. But she’d never seen one before. That’s why her instincts had told her to fly away! “You’re a— I remember now. You’re a basilisk!”
Wait— that wasn’t right.
“No, you’re not a basilisk, you’re— You’re a snake!” She narrowed her eyes. “You don’t want to scare me away. You— you want—”
“You ssstupid sssparrow!” the snake seethed.
“I know what you want!” she chirped, fluttering from one bend of wire to another. Her tail fanned in fright. “You want to eat me! You’re just like a— a hawk! A hawk without feathers or wings!”
The snake slithered toward the fence, parting the grass to one side and the other as it came. Felicity shivered. Could it slither up through the links of the fence? She didn’t want to wait around and find out!
“Come down, sssparrow!” it hissed again.
“No!” Felicity cried out. Spreading her wings, she shot up into the air, well out of the reach of the snake.
Beating her wings hard, she flew away, hearing the snake’s angry hisses fade behind her.
Once she reached the northern edge where the trees began again, she slowed and wheeled around, looking back over the wide grassy clearing.
“Phew,” she breathed before she turned toward the cliff of grey stone, larger now and closer than before. She was almost there.
But what other enchantments and tricks did Grak have in store for her?
Felicity swallowed hard. She didn’t want to think about it.
Chapter 9
Her shadow skimmed away beneath her, rising and falling over the tops of trees as she went. Only now, it was further to her right than before.
As the day got older, the sun would begin to sink even closer toward the horizon. And her shadow would go further and further away.
The fairies had said that Grak would be sleeping as long as the sun was in the sky. But when it set…
A shudder ran through her. She shouldn’t think about that.
She looked up toward the mountain that loomed above her. High up on the rocky cliff face she could see a narrow ledge leading into what looked like a low shadowy cave.
A heavy weight of foreboding settled on her heart at the sight of the dark opening but despite this, Felicity beat her wings with renewed vigor. As she neared the cliff, an updraft caught her wings and lifted her skyward. Ragged crags fell past her as she rode the wind up the face of the cliff.
As the opening drew near, she tipped her wings and fluttered to a landing on the stony ledge.
There, the cave waited; a dark opening in the grey wall of the cliff. It reminded her of the open mouth and dark throat of the snake near the fence, and Felicity gulped hard.
Drawing in a deep breath, she took a determined hop toward the opening. Then she paused and turned, looking out across the tops of the trees. The Wildwood stretched to the horizon, an unbroken sea of green. Somewhere out there, far away, Colin and his dad were waiting, along with all the other fairies, for her to return safely with the queen. And even further away was the end of the Wildwood, the dark road the featherless two-foots made, her own cozy tree, her nest, and her books.
Felicity pulled her eyes away, and gazed into the dark cave. She fluttered her wings, fanned her tail feathers in determination, and hopped forward.
She paused at the entrance and tilted her head.
There, several hops into the tunnel, stood a flat stone wall that stopped her from going any further.
And on the face of the stone, just like King Taron had said, she saw words scratched right into the rock.
“Oooh.” Felicity hopped into the cave. This must be the stone door that would open for her if she read the password. Gulping, she perused the words before she shifted her wings and chirped out loud:
Felicity hopped backward as the echo of her voice faded. She tipped her head.
Any moment now, the stone door would do what magical doors did in the books she read. Either it would slide out of the way, disappearing into the wall, or it would swing open.
But it didn’t move. At all.
She fluttered her wings and tipped her head. She’d read the password exactly as she was supposed to. Hadn’t she?
Or perhaps the enchanted wall hadn’t heard.
Felicity sighed, flapped her wings, and read the words once more; this time in a louder voice.
Still nothing happened.
“I think you’re broken,” she said to the stone wall. “I read your poem. You should open now.”
Still nothing.
Felicity narrowed her eyes. “Stupid door,” she muttered. She hopped to the stone door and pecked it.
Aside from losing a miniscule flake of rock, the stone seemed undaunted.
“Hmm,” Felicity huffed.
What should she do? She’d read the poem out loud and still the door would not open for her. Should she turn around and go back? But what would she tell the fairies? That she had failed?
That she had come within just a few hops of rescuing their queen and couldn’t?
No! She was not going back! She hadn’t come this far to be turned back by a dumb door that wouldn’t open. There had to be some way to get in. After all, this was probably the door Grak used to get in and out.
Felicity turned and looked out the round opening behind her. The sunlight fell at an angle. Daylight wouldn’t last forever.
Turning back to the stone door, she tipped her head. There had to be something more. And perhaps that something might be right in front of her face like the markings on the moths’ wings or the deceptively harmless look of the snake.
Felicity’s eyes moved over the words etched into the stone. Reading the poem out loud didn’t do anything. So the writing itself wasn’t the password.
Felicity puffed herself up as a new thought entered her mind. Maybe the poem gave a clue to the actual password. Just in case Grak forgot it.
A smile touched her beak at this.
Long ago, Augustus had read her a story about a small featherless two-foot who had gone on an adventure with some friends to fight a dragon. The poor little fellow had found himself in a situation kind of like this one where he’d had to guess the answers to several—
Felicity chirped and gave a hopeful hop.
“Riddles!” she cried out loud. “You’re a riddle!”
All she had to do was figure out the answer to the riddle then speak the real password!
She grew still, and her eyes widened.
So what was the real password?
Felicity tipped her head, studying the words of the poem again.
“If you wish to enter here, my name then you must speak,” she muttered to herself. “So— I need to say the name of— someone.”
She fluttered her wings. Grak must have written the message himself, so—
“Grak?” she offered, her voice quavering.
Nothing happened.
So the password wasn’t Grak’s name. It would have been too obvious anyway. Wicked or not, he probably wasn’t a complete idiot.
Straightening her body up, Felicity read the poem over again to herself.
“I’m in the deepest cavern, I’m at the highest peak,” she murmured the second line beneath her breath.
Golly. Who could that be? If she hadn’t already tried his name, she would have said Grak since being a sorcerer, he might be able to go where other birds couldn’t go. Hawks and eagles could fly to pretty high peaks but what could also go deep down in caves, too? Bats perhaps, but they didn’t fly up to high mountains.