Feathers

by Rose Mannering

  “A sorcerer,” interrupted the professor, “such as the Western Realm has not seen in many a lifetime.”

  Cala grabbed Ode’s arm and pulled him close to her. “He is just a man,” she whispered in his ear. “You must remember that, beneath his power, he is still only a man. His name is Abioy, but keep that to yourself until the right time.”

  “What are you saying?” asked the professor. “What is this whispering? Do not forget that in a few moments I could have you captured again!”

  Cala narrowed her eyes. “I am captured only if I want to be,” she hissed.

  The professor frowned and Ode looked behind him at the backs of the guards who were oblivious to their escaping prisoner.

  “I am helping you because I believe that it is in the best interest of the Western Realm,” said the professor. “But perhaps I am mistaken.”

  Cala smiled. “It is too late for mistakes now,” she said.

  Arrow emitted a deep growl and Ode felt the hairs on his arms rise.

  The professor’s fingers twitched and he shook his head.

  “Guards!” he yelled. “Guards!”

  The guards turned and their faces quickly flooded with shock and rage.

  “Run!” cried Cala.

  At first, Ode felt like he could not move. He stared at the guards stumbling toward him, his body in a numb panic.

  “Run!” cried Cala again, shoving him.

  Ode’s legs jumped to life and he turned and raced into the trees, Arrow close behind. He saw Cala disappear in the opposite direction and then he heard distant shouts and angry screams. He hoped that she had not been captured again. He ran and ran, his legs unable to stop.

  Branches clawed and bit at Ode’s arms and face, and he fought the urge to shift. He did not want to lose his clothes again. He did not think that anyone was following him and he slowed his pace, his chest pounding with hurried, painful breaths. Even Arrow did not sense any danger and slowed to a trot at his side.

  So it was a shock to both of them when someone grabbed Ode from behind and pinned him to the ground.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The Banishment

  Ode felt the breath knocked from his body and his head pounded with the beat of his heart. Arrow was snarling. Someone was talking to Ode and shaking his shoulders. As his surroundings slowly came into focus, he saw the familiar patterns of Blue Moon’s face floating above his own. His brother had one hand clamped upon his shoulder, while the other was fending Arrow off with a spear.

  “Call back your wolf!” he said.

  Ode lifted his free arm and waved it in the direction of Arrow’s growling. He felt a rough tongue lick his fingers and Arrow’s snarls subsided to a grumble.

  Blue Moon lowered his spear, but he did not let go of his brother.

  “You’ve caught me,” Ode wheezed.

  “By chance you ran past me back there.”

  “So, you tackled me to the ground? You could have just called a greeting.”

  Ode tried to smile and sit up, but Blue Moon pressed him back down.

  “I was hunting when I heard the commotion,” he said. “I know you’ve released the birther—you have, haven’t you?”

  “I thought you just said that you knew.”

  Blue Moon’s fingers bit into his skin and Ode saw that his little brother was in no mood for teasing.

  “The New People have told us tales of the birther,” said Blue Moon. “They have said that she is evil.”

  “Did you ever see her do evil?”

  Blue Moon frowned. “She didn’t do much good,” he said. “She didn’t save Dar.”

  “The New People killed him.”

  Pain flashed across Blue Moon’s face and he pressed down upon his older brother, forcing the air from Ode’s chest so that he gasped.

  “What’s going on?” Blue Moon asked.

  “I don’t know,” Ode wheezed sincerely.

  Blue Moon glanced around before releasing Ode, who spluttered and coughed, climbing unsteadily to his feet.

  “You know that I should kill you, brother?” said Blue Moon. “You have released a captive and there are creatures crashing through the forest right now looking for you.”

  Ode nodded. “I was raised in the Taone and I know the penalty for betraying others,” he said. “But we are not the Taone anymore. Things are different.”

  “Yes, they certainly are.”

  The point of Blue Moon’s spear sunk to the ground and he stared off into the trees, his eyes filled with memories of the past. He did not look so much like a chief then, but only a young, lost boy.

  “I don’t know what to do,” said Ode.

  “You can’t stay, or you will be their next prisoner.”

  “But I don’t know where to go.”

  “Fly off somewhere?”

  Ode shook his head.

  “Summer will end soon,” said Blue Moon. “The cold winds will come. What will you do then?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “There seems to be a lot of things you don’t know.”

  “There always has been, and there always will be,” said Ode, and the two brothers surprised themselves by smiling.

  “You will have to go from here,” said Blue Moon, his smile fading away.

  “I know.”

  “You will need warmer clothes and weapons to defend yourself.”

  Ode looked down at his worn buffalo hide tunic and soft, summer boots. He would be easy prey when the winds came and he only had his piece of flint to protect him.

  “I have nothing,” Ode said.

  “If you meet me here at sundown, I will bring you what I can.”

  “Brother, thank—”

  “No, don’t thank me. There is something I must tell you,” said Blue Moon. “I should have told you before, but these days have been too much.”

  Ode saw the knot of pain in his brother’s brow and the rigid lines of his face. For a moment, he looked so much like Gray Morning.

  “When we charged into battle, Dar knew that we would lose,” said Blue Moon, his voice faltering. “He told me that he would die. He–he said that I must live, and he died protecting me.”

  “He would have wanted it that way,” said Ode. “He was saving the new chief of the Taone. Without you, the rest of the tribe would have been lost.”

  “No, that is not what I need to say. You see, he wanted me to live to … to return to the tribe and tell them that you were to be the new chief.”

  Ode felt the ground beneath him wobble.

  “I don’t—” he began.

  “Dar knew that you were right, and he knew that he should have listened to you. It was just too late.”

  “He didn’t know what he was saying!” Ode babbled, his words coming out in sharp bursts. “In the excitement of the battle he became confused.”

  “Maybe. But that is what he said. Only, I didn’t do that. The Taone seemed to assume that I was the new chief. So did you.”

  Ode nodded, staring off into the trees. He could not imagine the mighty Gray Morning admitting he had been wrong. Besides, his father hated him, didn’t he? Ode remembered the painted feathers beaten into the battleground and he winced. It was too late to wonder now.

  “I thought you should know,” said Blue Moon. “I know you think he hated you … but I am not so sure.”

  “Thank you.”

  Blue Moon nodded and turned to walk away. “I will see you later,” he said over his shoulder, then added with his old smile, “Chief.”

  It did not cross Ode’s mind that his brother might be laying a trap. Ode knew that they had grown apart, but they were brothers and he was sure that Blue Moon did not want to hurt him. He went to their meeting that evening without fear of ambush, so he was surprised when Arrow halted suddenly in the forest, his hackles rising.

  Ode knew to trust his wolf’s instrincts and he crouched down and edged into the shade of a tree. He waited, and then he heard the voices, too—a low murmur nearby. He h
ad spent the day wandering through the forest and waiting until sundown, deliberating what he would do and where he would go. He had been careful to stay far away from the camp and he had not seen or heard anyone.

  “Where is he?” asked a strange voice.

  Ode flattened himself against the ground and Arrow hid beneath the branches of a bush.

  “He will be somewhere here,” replied Blue Moon in the language of the New People, stumbling over their words.

  “Why not call out to him?” suggested another voice.

  “If I do that then he will know something is wrong.”

  It was just as Blue Moon uttered these last words that Ode understood. His brother was speaking loudly and this was peculiar. To the ears of the New People he was whispering, but the Taone did not speak at all when they were hunting, if they could help it. When they did, it was in the softest tones, so the sound could easily be mistaken for the hush of the wind through the leaves or the tread of a pronghorn’s hoof. Blue Moon was warning Ode to stay away.

  “Are you sure he will come to this place?” asked another voice.

  “Yes,” said Blue Moon. “But we are making too much noise. Let me leave these supplies here; we will make less sound without them.”

  As if to prove his point, he rustled some branches.

  “But he will expect you to bring them, will he not?”

  “It won’t matter,” replied Blue Moon. “You will attack before he has time to worry.”

  There were murmurs of agreement.

  “It is lucky that we came across you back there,” said a voice. “You would have found it difficult to carry out this plan by yourself.”

  “Yes,” replied Blue Moon. “It is very lucky.”

  Through the trees, Ode saw a group of figures pass by. They were all Magic Beasts by the shapes of their shadows, which Ode knew was a strike of good fortune. Had a group of Magic Beings come across Blue Moon, they may not have been so easy to convince; many of them had the gift of foresight and some could even sense when others were lying.

  Ode waited with his breath held until they had passed and he could no longer hear the crash of their steps through the forest. When he was sure that they had moved on, he darted as quickly and quietly as he could through the trees. He could see tracks that his brother had left behind to guide him—deep prints in the mud that were as unusual as Blue Moon’s loud whispers, for the Taone hunters were taught to leave no signs of their passage.

  Beside a tree he found a leather bag containing food, a fur cape, boots, and some extra necessities including a small dagger. He grabbed the bag and, hoisting it onto his shoulder, began to jog through the trees. He allowed himself one last look at their planned meeting place and he mouthed silent thanks to his brother for his kindness. He knew that without the help of Blue Moon and these supplies, he was unlikely to get far in his journey.

  As Ode turned away to sprint off into the forest, a flash of white caught his eye. He did not stop to look for fear of the Magic Beasts returning, but pressed on. It was only later, when his sprint had slowed to a jog, that Ode was sure he had glimpsed the professor in the trees, watching him.

  That night it grew dark quickly. The forest had grown thicker as the day passed and Ode’s pace had slowed to a brisk walk. Arrow trotted at his side, panting, his gray form slithering through the tree trunks. The beams of greenery above shrouded the light of the moon, and when Ode walked into a branch for the fourth time, he knew that he should stop for the night.

  Ode had slept alone in a forest before, but tonight was different. He did not know this place. There could be wolves, mountain lions, bears, or worse. Trying to ignore the rapid beating of his heart, Ode crawled under the branches of a sprawling bush, dragging his bag after him. Arrow followed, and together they lay in the undergrowth, trying to ignore the unfamiliar sounds around them.

  Ode buried one of his hands in Arrow’s heavy, soft coat, thankful that he had his companion with him. He thought of the tent that he had slept in for as long as he could remember, with its comforting scent of smoke and earth. He thought of Cala, who had been torn from his life, and Gray Morning, who was lost forever. He thought of the rest of the Taone, realizing that he might never see them again.

  It struck him like a chill. He had been so preoccupied with the events of the last day that he had not considered that he was actually leaving. He was departing, never to return. The beat of the drums and the plumes of ceremonial feathers were now only memories from his past. There would be no more Winter Feast and there would be no more birthing celebrations. He was no longer a member of the Taone.

  Ode’s eyes stung with tears of grief and fear. Somewhere in the forest, an animal howled to the moon, and he buried his face in Arrow’s fur to muffle a sob. With his free hand he grabbed hold of his amulet and held it tightly, squeezing its bristly impression into his palm.

  I am alone, he told himself. I am banished.

  Part Three

  In a castle surrounded by a forest, a young, silver-skinned woman walked through hallways alone. She was dressed in silks and jewels that glittered in the light of her candle, and the heavy hem of her emerald robe dragged across the carpet, whispering behind her. She could hear the distant sound of voices and merriment from one of the ballrooms, but as she traveled farther, the sounds grew faint, until they were only a hushed murmur.

  She stopped before a large oak door and slid inside, shutting it carefully behind her. In the dark room she breathed a sigh of relief, smelling the comforting aroma of crackled pages and old scrolls. She felt her way through the dark to a table, upon which she knew there were oil lamps. As she lit them, she smiled to herself, remembering the days when she did not have to do such things.

  The lamps threw a warm, yellow glow across the room, illuminating the rows of shelves that towered everywhere, stuffed with books and scrolls. The library, like the castle, had once cared for itself, but when the enchantment ended, it had left a mess. There were odd papers strewn on the floor and teetering stacks of tomes in corners.

  The silver-skinned woman unclasped the emerald robe from around her neck and heaved it onto a nearby chair where it fell with a thump and a puff of dust. She stretched her aching shoulders and stroked the amulet around her neck, tracing her thumb across the rose etched into the center of the golden disk.

  Taking one of the oil lamps, she began walking slowly through the shelves, reading the titles imprinted on the books’ spines. She was looking for something she had seen in a dream, but she was not entirely sure what it was. Occasionally, she pulled out a book that seemed promising and began leafing through the pages, but soon she would sigh and discard it before continuing her search. The oil lamp in her hand burned brightly, guiding her way through the maze of shelves as the night wore on, and the only sound was the soft tread of her jeweled slippers on the floorboards.

  “Beauty?”

  She jumped at his voice, almost dropping the lamp in her hand. She had been so absorbed in her reading that she had not heard him enter the room.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “Looking for something,” she replied without turning.

  “You disappeared after the coronation. No one knew where you had gone.”

  Beauty sighed. “I stayed for a while,” she replied, turning to face him. “But everyone seemed happy enough to talk and eat among themselves. I did not think that they would notice I had gone.”

  “I noticed.”

  Beauty saw his hunched shoulders beneath the green velvet of his jacket. He looked just as uncomfortable as she felt in these regal clothes. She had asked him that morning if they must go through with it and he had replied that they must, for the Hillanders needed a queen to follow.

  She put the oil lamp down on a nearby shelf and shuffled to his side. Sometimes she still felt shy with him and taking his hand, she could not help the blush that crept onto her cheeks.

  “I am sorry, Beast,” she said.

  The Hillanders c
alled him General and some even referred to him as the king, but to Beauty he would always be Beast.

  “I came here to find something,” she added. “But I wanted to be alone, too. All those people and the way they looked at me … I do not know if we will win. I do not know what will happen to them. I cannot keep them safe.”

  “We have an army and we have loyal followers—” he began.

  “We have farmers and bakers! The Hillanders are good people, but most of them have never held a sword.” Beauty turned away, letting her white hair fall into her eyes so he could not see her fear.

  “That is true,” said Beast. “I cannot deny it. But we have my army, too, and yes, I suppose they have not fought since their enchantment—and some barely know their own names—but they were once good soldiers.”

  They looked at each other and then smiled.

  “And we have you,” he added, taking hold of her hand once more.

  “All right, you have charmed me,” she said. “For now.”

  “Come back to the ballroom and bid your guests good-bye. Farmers and bakers they may be, but they live by custom, and they would like to see their host before they leave. Their host and their queen.”

  Beauty twitched at the word.

  “Do you ever wish that we were spending our days in here again?” she asked. “All we did was read and talk.”

  “Perhaps. But you are forgetting that I was also covered in fur then, with fangs down to my knees.”

  “Yes.” Beauty giggled. “Perhaps I had forgotten that.”

  “Come on,” he said, gently tugging on her arm and leading her to the door.

  As she scooped up her emerald robe to leave, a book across the room caught Beauty’s attention. She knew immediately it was what she had been looking for and she ran to grab it.

  “What is wrong?” asked Beast.

  Flipping the cover open, her fingers trembling, Beauty poured over the pages. She was vaguely aware that her silvery skin was beginning to glitter in the lamplight, as it did when her Magic overtook her.

  “It is a swan,” she whispered.

  Beast looked at the page she was studying, which was filled with sketches of a large, white bird. He frowned.