by Maria Burke
‘“Can someone explain to me why I’ve been kidnapped?” I yelled. “Why are you persecuting me like this? You’re making a big mistake!”
‘“No mistake at all,” said Roddick. “The King is very pleased with you. Your feathers are a magnificent shade of royal blue and will be perfect for Queen Kiki’s royal cloak. She will be delighted with you in the morning.”
‘“What?” I cried. “You’re planning to strip me of my feathers to make a cloak. Are you completely mad?”
‘“Well, we certainly didn’t bring you here for your brains!” laughed Roddick. “What a pathetic little bird you are, falling off your perch and hiccuping all over the floor. You deserve to get a good plucking!”
‘“I won’t allow you to pluck me alive!”
‘“You have no choice in the matter. And we’ll pluck you whatever way we please – dead or alive! Tonight and tomorrow morning you will be injected with a special feather-growing formula. Then the Palace Plucker will be called to pluck every one of your blue feathers, one by one. Wait until you see his huge tweezers. It’s a sharp-looking instrument! He’ll pluck you until you are completely bald and before you get a chance to lick your wounds, we’ll inject you with more feather-growing formula and pluck you all over again. You can look forward to a long life of plucking.”
‘“Wait till all my friends hear of this. They’ll put a stop to this!”
‘“If anyone comes here trying to rescue you, they’ll get similar treatment. That tweezers can be used on human hair too. There’s nothing like a slow and painful plucking to teach someone a lesson. Very effective!” he said.
‘After they had another good laugh, Roddick ordered the guards to take me back to my cage in the dungeon. He said he would send down the injection later and that he’d have me nice and fat and fluffy in no time.’
‘Poor Pod,’ said Kerry when he had finished his story. ‘What rotten, nasty beasts!’
‘Yes, and the guards keep telling me how painful the plucking is going to be. We’ve got to get out of here, Kerry.’
‘What are we going to do without Simon?’ said Kerry. ‘I hope they haven’t caught him too. Do you think he got away safely?’
‘He’s not dead,’ said Pod. ‘I’d feel it in my bones if he was. We’ve got to believe he’s alive and that he’ll get us out of here. He’s our only chance.’
The sound of flapping wings announced the return of the eagle guards. The key was turned in the lock and the cell door opened. A flock of eagles flew in carrying two bowls of strange-smelling liquid and a very large blue injection.
Two of the guards held Pod down while a third injected him in the neck. The horrified owl uttered a terrible cry. He stood trembling with all his blue feathers standing on end.
A bowl of yellowish broth with three large, green things floating around inside it was left outside Kerry’s cage. She was handed a spoon to feed herself with, through the iron bars.
‘What’s this?’ she cried.
‘Turnip and brussels sprout soup,’ said one of the guards.
‘Yuck!’ shouted Kerry.
‘You’re lucky to be getting anything at all. You’re a trespasser. Breaking and entering, that’s a serious crime on Eyrie Island. And as for you, Owl, his majesty has ordered that you will be plucked first thing tomorrow morning.’
‘What?’ Pod exclaimed. His eyes started to twitch. ‘But I’m not ready.’
The guards laughed and one of them remarked, ‘Of course you’ll be ready. I can see the effect of those injections already. Your feathers are coming along very nicely. We’ll be here bright and early tomorrow morning to take you to the Palace Plucker. So make sure you get your beauty sleep.’
The guards flew off tittering and jeering.
‘See you tomorrow for feather plucking,’ they cried, slamming the door.
It was a long night in the cold, dreary dungeon. Kerry tried to sleep on her cramped bed of straw but her feet kept getting stuck between the iron bars. Pod paced up and down his cage scratching and moaning. Some time in the early hours, Pod’s hooting roused Kerry from her restless dreams. He was panicking.
‘I’m going to be tortured in a few hours time. I’ve got to get out of here,’ he cried.
Clinging to the iron bars of his cage, and rattling them with all his strength, Pod desperately tried to force the door open.
‘I’m so hot and sweaty in these feathers and I’m getting fatter and heavier every second.’
Kerry studied him.
‘Your feathers are growing thicker. You must have at least three times the amount of feathers you had when you arrived here.’
‘I think I’m going to melt,’ moaned Pod.
‘Melt!’ echoed Kerry gazing through the iron bars of her cage.
‘Pod, you’ve just given me an idea. I think I have a way for us to escape.’
CHAPTER 11
A Maze and a Waterfall
Kerry gripped the iron bars of her cage, deep in the dark, musty dungeon. She stared intently at Pod, who was growing more feathers by the minute. Kerry’s eyes were bright with excitement.
‘Pod, you’ve just given me a great idea. I’m going to light a fire and melt some of those bars on your cage. Simon gave me some of his matches before he left me in the Abbey. I had totally forgotten about them. He told me that the green matches were for fire and the white ones are for light. I think one of them might come in very handy right now.’
‘Simon’s matches, are you crazy? They’re disastrous. They never work the way he says they will. We could blow ourselves up!’
‘But he’s done a lot of work on improving them.’
‘You’ve got to be joking Kerry. You’d actually use Simon’s matches after all the accidents he’s had? Remember all the times you had to ring the fire brigade. I’ll be burned to a frazzle.’
‘Have you got a better idea, Pod? Do you want to wait here until they come and pluck your feathers out one by one?’
Pod stood trembling in his cage. He shook his head.
‘What have we got to lose, Pod? Isn’t it worth a try?’
‘Promise you’ll be careful then,’ said Pod in a very small voice.
‘I promise. Now I need something to use as fuel.’
‘Ssssstraw,’ muttered Pod.
‘Good idea! The straw in our cages is perfect for fuel. Use your beak to wrap some of it around the point where your door was sealed, Pod. Great! And get back as far as you can from the door and stop shaking, will you? I have a feeling this is going to work.’
Kerry extracted Simon’s box of matches from where she had hidden it in the hem of her jacket. She lit a green match and threw it at the straw on Pod’s door. It immediately flared and sent up a bright flame. White sparks burst outwards from the heart of the flame.
‘Yeouch!’ cried Pod as one of the sparks flew past him.
‘Don’t worry! Those sparks are harmless in this dungeon. The dampness will put them out.’
She focused her attention on the fire. The flame grew whiter and the iron bar turned yellow. Then it glowed in a deep shade of orange. Gradually the metal began to melt. Then with a crack and a snap the door sprang open. It swung back and forth on its hinges. Kerry threw her bowl of uneaten turnip and brussels sprout soup straight at the fire and quenched it.
With a heaving and swishing of feathers, Pod flew up out of his cage.
‘Well you can still fly,’ said Kerry.
‘Only barely … It’s hard work with this heavy coat of feathers. But now we’ve got to get you out, Kerry! Can you do the match trick again?’
Kerry found another green match and the same trick worked perfectly the second time. She crawled out of her cage, delighted with her work.
‘Isn’t it great to be free?’ she said.
‘Yes, but we’re not exactly free yet. How do we get out the dungeon door?’
‘That’s easy. Get your back to that wall.’
Kerry used the remaining straw and a third green
match to set fire to the door. Then she ran to the opposite wall. They stood together with their backs against the wall until the entire door burned down. Finally the flames died out.
‘We’d better get out of here,’ said Pod, ‘before anyone notices we’re missing.’
After exiting their little cell, they hurried down a long rocky passage and through the dungeons. They arrived at a junction.
‘Can you remember the way out?’ Kerry asked.
‘It doesn’t matter which way we go as long as we get away from those cages,’ said Pod zooming on down the wider passage.
Kerry followed Pod as he flew blindly from passage to passage. She hadn’t the slightest clue where they were going. Each route looked exactly the same as the next. Finally they came to a dungeon. To their amazement, before them stood a burned-down door and two cages, just like the ones they had left behind.
‘Oh no,’ cried Kerry. ‘We’re back where we started. Look at those brussels sprouts scattered all over the floor. It’s the same dungeon we started out from. We’ve wasted ages running around here like two headless chickens. Are we ever going to stop going around in circles? If we don’t get out of here soon, the eagles will discover us missing. It’ll soon be morning and they’ll be arriving to pluck your feathers.’
‘We must be in a maze,’ said Pod who was beginning to tremble again. ‘We’re done for. It’s impossible to get out of a maze.’
‘My father took us to a maze once when we were little,’ said Kerry. ‘That was before he went on his fateful voyage and got lost in the Southern Seas.’
‘Your father was a very wise man. I’m sure he had no problem getting out of the maze. Which one did he take you to?’
‘It was in the Swishtree Forest. And he did show us how to get out of it. Let me see. I wish I could remember.’
‘Close your eyes and try to picture it,’ said Pod. ‘It might come back to you.’
‘Yes. Yes, I have it now,’ said Kerry. ‘You have to make a mark beside every exit you take. That way you can see from the marks if you’ve been through that exit before.’
‘That makes sense,’ said Pod. ‘Good job you remembered. We could have been wandering around here for years.’
‘But what will we use as a marker? In the forest we used chalk.’
‘We can use a bit of rock to scrape an X on the wall.’
‘Good thinking, Pod.’ Kerry picked up a sharp stone and made a rough scrape on the right-hand passage.
‘It’s only a faint mark but the important thing is that we can see it. And nobody will know how we got out of here. Hopefully when they come looking for us they’ll think we’re lost in the maze.’
The two friends decided to take all the right turns first and at each junction they marked the wall beside the turn with an X. They kept going until they arrived at a junction, which had already been marked with their X. Here they took the opposite turn. This led them off in a new direction. They kept going, marking every turn they took carefully until finally they found a passage which was much narrower than any they had seen before.
‘This is a different type of tunnel. We could be out of the maze,’ said Kerry. ‘But I suppose we’d better keep marking the walls in case we double back on our tracks again.’
‘Let’s try to stick to the narrow passages,’ said Pod. ‘The eagles can’t fly here. There’s no room for them to stretch their wings.’
They continued on until they heard the sound of rushing water. Following the sound, they travelled along a series of passages. It grew louder and louder. The last passage opened into a huge cavern with a fast-moving river flowing through it. Kerry noticed a little pathway on a ledge to her right. It ran just above the level of the river. And it was going in the direction of the current.
‘If we follow this path along with the current it will take us to the sea,’ Kerry said, ‘and Grinwick told me that the islanders live near the sea caves. We might be able to find them and get help. But we have to move fast. Before long Red Beak will discover us missing and send a search party after us.’
Simon closed his eyes as he was flung over the edge of the waterfall. The force of the breeze as he fell from the precipice whipped his face. He plummeted downwards towards a swirling torrent below. He hit the water with a slap. Simon held his breath as the falling streams forced him deep into the pool. He fought to free himself from the weight of the falling water, which pushed him down. Then he saw a wooden plank come hurtling towards him. He lunged towards it and grabbed it tightly. He recognised the plank as being a part of the little boat that had fallen apart. Clinging to the plank, Simon floated up to the surface of a fast-flowing river, gasping for air. Gradually his lungs were filled with air and his breathing steadied.
He was being carried in the current of a deep river that rushed away from the high, stone walls of the Abbey, which loomed in the distance behind him. As he looked back at the waterfall he was amazed at the size of its drop. It burst out of a high cliff and fell down into a river below. He knew there was no way out of the current; it was still moving too fast.
Simon was dragged downhill by the rapidly-flowing river. He clung tightly to his plank of wood, observing the landscape around him. The river was flowing down into a boggy valley. The earth was almost black. Grass grew in tufts along the riverbank. A few trees and bushes were scattered throughout the bog. Simon saw wild birds flying above him, heading for clumps of tall grasses along the banks. In the distance he could see a lake and, beyond, a high mount ain range with a central high peak. After what felt like miles the current weakened and Simon could see the mountains more clearly. They were sheer and grey, bleak and rocky and rose to a jagged, purple peak.
Clinging to the plank, he drifted into a lake at the foot of the mountains. He felt chilled to the bone. The strength in his limbs was waning so much that he could barely keep hold of the plank. His hands had grown blue and numb with the cold. As he floated towards the shore he noticed some figures standing at its edge waving at him. He was so frozen that there was no feeling at all left in his limbs. He was shivering violently by the time he got to shore. People at the edge waded into the lake to pull him out. They carried him to a low cliff at the lake edge and entered it through a crack. Inside was a cave, where a fire was burning in a hearth. His wet clothes were peeled off and he was laid on a rough bed by the fire, wrapped in warm blankets.
Simon tried to tell the cave people about Kerry and Pod but his lips were so cold he was unable to speak. One of them lifted his head and offered him a hot drink. It warmed him up slightly but he was shivering so badly that it was difficult to form words.
‘Help … my friends …’
‘Hey!’ He’s trying to say something,’ said one of the cave people. A few more heads appeared around Simon. Then a woman’s voice told him to rest until he was strong enough to speak. They left him alone.
After they had gone, Simon looked around. He noticed that the cave was in fact a living room, with bits of furniture scattered around it. Overwhelmed with exhaustion, he sank back on his rough bed by the fire.
Simon awoke to see sunlight streaming in through a tiny window that was carved into the cave wall. His eyes were dazzled for a moment and then they focused on a girl with dark brown eyes.
‘Am I dreaming?’ asked Simon.
‘No,’ said the girl. ‘How do you feel?’
‘I’m a bit tired still. I thought I was going to drown back there in a waterfall.’
‘You look a bit scratched and bruised but apart from that you’re in good shape for someone who survived a fall from the cliff.’
‘How long was I asleep?’
‘All night,’ said the girl.
‘And who are you?’ Simon asked.
‘My name is Niamh. And if you’re well enough to get up Simon we’d like to talk to you.’
‘How do you know my name?’ asked Simon in amazement.
‘We’ve been waiting for you.’
‘Do you know about my siste
r Kerry and Pod, the Blue Owl.’
‘I know that Red Beak has them up in the Abbey.’
‘He caught Kerry then?’
‘Hurry up and get dressed,’ said Niamh. ‘There’s someone here who wants to meet you. He will tell you all the news.’
CHAPTER 12
The Library
Kerry and Pod followed the underground river, hoping to see a glimmer of daylight around every bend. The caves on each bank grew smaller and stretched off in different directions. They arrived at a domed cave and to their surprise discovered some ornate wooden chairs and tables stored in its recesses. The next cave was filled with old church pews. An adjoining one contained crates of candles and old tablecloths. And adjacent to that was a cave full of ancient books.
‘Look at this, Kerry,’ said Pod, landing on one of the crates and studying its contents. ‘It’s a book on science and nature. And see the next book is all about the history of the Abbey. But the amazing thing is that they have been handwritten and illustrated.’
‘They’re manuscripts,’ said Kerry. ‘See the beautiful drawings on the side of this one. The monks must have spent years working on those.’
‘Do you know, I think these books belong to a library? All of them are indexed under various categories. Take a look at the first page of this one.’
‘You’re right,’ said Kerry wearily. ‘But that means that we must be still underneath the Abbey. We’re still walking around in circles. I can’t believe it.’
