Behind the Curtain

by Shannon Ainslie

  “Thanks,” he said to her. He rolled back into a squat position and forced the lunch down. It was a peanut butter sandwich and a banana. He wasn’t hungry, but he knew he needed the calories. He also needed to regain his focus.

  His sweat had long since dried, and the fingers of the sun hadn’t made it to them yet. He shivered. Rose squawked at him from her perch in a tree.

  He got ready to run again, but instead of leading the way, Rose hopped up a branch higher. He put his hands on his hips and stared up at her with his brow furrowed.

  She hopped playfully up to a higher branch and squawked at him.

  He understood. He walked around the base of the tree, studying the lower branches. Then he shrugged, jumped up, and laced his fingers around the lowest branch. He hung there while his feet found the trunk, then walked up until he was able to maneuver himself onto the first branch.

  After that it became a fun game of climbing branches while Rose hopped about above him, squawking if he was taking too long. He got into quite a nice rhythm until the trunk began growing smaller and the branches became thinner and sparser.

  The sun hit him straight on, coaxing the scents of bark and pine needles out of the tree and filling him with warmth.

  He stopped at the highest branch that could support his weight. His body hugged the treetop, his sneakers firmly planted. Gingerly, he turned around, looking into a sunny blue sky. He felt exhilarated. He saw the treetops going on endlessly in one direction; in another, the field went on and on until bumping into the foot of high hills. And he saw bits of his town, which was quite far away.

  He felt big and strong. Mostly, he felt as if he could do anything. That the world was wide and full of possibilities. He knew what needed to be done. He needed to help his dad. He needed to do it for his dad and mom, for Rose and Granny.

  He was recharged and determined when his heels hit the ground again. Rose wasted no time in hustling him along, pushing him to his limits, and watching out for his safety. She brought him back at dusk. He was tired, dirty, and ravenous.

  The warmth of Granny’s house enveloped him as he entered. He smiled at his granny, eyeing the steaming bowl of bean chili on the table. But Granny shook her head at him and snapped her fingers. The sound of pouring water came from the bathroom down the hall.

  Rowdy obliged and headed into the steaming bathroom. He removed his sweaty, dirty clothes and slipped into the hot water, feeling his tired muscles relax.

  In the light of the candles, he studied his dirty hands. He dug the dirt out from under his nails and pressed the bruises on his palms. His forearms were scratched from tree bark. He threw hot water on his salty face. He wiggled and stretched his aching feet, looking at his toes that peeked out of the water.

  His eyelids fell down, the lights dancing behind them. He thought he heard the water humming, much like the sound of the gemstones on the walls in Sionnin.

  He felt his mother’s cool hand brush his hair from his face, then rest on his cheek. He saw her face, her long dark hair, and her soft brown eyes. He smelled her subtle floral perfume, and he ached to fold himself into her embrace.

  He opened his eyes, leaning forward, to see she was gone. He was alone in the bath. The water was still and the room dead quiet. He trembled in despair; a sob escaped his throat. Anger welled up strong inside of his chest, and he beat his clenched fists against the water over and over again until the bathroom door opened and Rose swooped in. She settled beside him on the porcelain, shaking her feathers against the spray of water.

  “Caw!” she said.

  “She was here, Rose! She was here!” He wailed in frustration, burying his face in his hands.

  “Caw!” she said again, cocking her head to the side and refolding her wings.

  “She was healthy, Rose, perfect, with her long hair. She wasn’t sick.” His voice was a whisper, his mind flooding with memories of his mother in a time before her cancer, the agonizing hospital stay, the funeral. It was a happy time that he longed for. He longed to have it back. He longed to feel his mother’s hand caress his face.

  “Caw!” Rose said. She hopped to the counter and pulled at a pile of fresh clothes, urging him out of his desperate stupor.

  With heavy spirits, he toweled himself dry and dressed, then followed Rose down the hallway to his supper.

  He slumped at the table and stared dumbly at the chili without acknowledging his granny. He felt her arms embrace him. He felt her little kiss on his temple, dry and gentle as a butterfly wing.

  *

  “She was here,” he muttered bitterly.

  “She is here still, dear,” Granny answered. “Right inside your heart. Free of illness and pain.”

  Granny gave her grandson another squeeze, then took a seat across from him. Addressing his sadness was an important part of Rowdy’s journey to becoming the warrior that he was destined to be.

  “It will get lighter,” she said to encourage him. “It will never stop hurting, but it will get lighter.”

  Rowdy remained silent with his gaze downcast and his mouth set in a stiff frown. Granny decided to change the subject.

  “Wizard Boc was the eldest of three brothers,” she said, beginning his next lesson in Sionnin history. He perked up a little and picked up his spoon.

  “That beautiful day when all of Sionnin celebrated Wizard Boc’s life was also a tragic day. The heir to the throne was the next eldest brother, a huge silky white polar bear called Wizard Ondag.” Granny folded her hands as she thought.

  Rowdy seemed very interested. He began to eat his food, to the relief of Granny and Rose.

  *

  “Was Ondag a good guy like Boc?” he asked with his mouth full.

  Granny’s eyes sparkled. “Ondag is alive. He is a powerful wizard with a very kind heart. Despite our loss of Boc, all of Sionnin was happy to have the great, kind Wizard Ondag take over rule of the land.”

  “But?” Rowdy urged, now taking big bites with enthusiasm. Granny and Rose exchanged glances. Granny’s little mouth pinched even pinchier.

  “When there is a significant ceremony or political event, all of Sionnin gathers at the delta in the south of the land. Two rivers merge there and empty into the sea.” Granny twisted her fingers together anxiously. She took a breath and continued. “The third brother is an evil wizard. He is evil through and through.”

  Rowdy stared at his granny, his spoon paused in midair and his breath caught in his throat. There was another exchange of glances between Granny and Rose.

  “This evil youngest brother is a huge timber wolf with coarse black fur, terrible, sharp claws, and long silver teeth like knives. Before we could crown Wizard Ondag, the hills became alive with all sorts of fierce beasts that poured down around us. We were surrounded, unsuspecting and unarmed.”

  Rowdy gulped and put his spoon down. He pushed his bowl away and then leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest.

  Granny put her head into her hands.

  “Caw!” Rose urged her on, making Rowdy jump.

  “They drove us into the sea, captured Wizard Ondag, and removed my horn.”

  The room was utterly quiet then. Granny seemed to slump. Rowdy’s head was filling with questions.

  “Your horn?” he managed at last.

  “In Sionnin, I am a unicorn. A sorceress. The highest form a female wizard can take. There is only one other like me. She turned to the dark side and helped the timber wolf, Wizard Conan, create his evil army. She reigns beside him still.”

  Rowdy had another question.

  “Why is Rose a crow, and why has my dad never talked about any of this?”

  Granny got up, shook her head at him, and picked up his plate. “Rose and your dad are under a spell. Your dad has no memory of this. And that is enough discussion for one night, my dear.”

  Rose flew to the couch in the living room, and Rowdy followed, then tucked into the blankets. His tired body seemed to melt into the co
uch, and he closed his eyes.

  Chapter 4

  Hugo

  The next morning began like the first. Granny bustled off to take Rowdy’s dad a basket of food. A bowl of porridge and fruit waited for Rowdy on the table. Rose screeched to wake him up.

  The difference was that Rowdy was sore. His whole body was stiff and aching. He rolled over, groaning, pulling the blanket over his head. He didn’t want to move.

  Rose was having none of it. She hopped about, screaming at him and ruffling her feathers in irritation.

  “Too sore,” Rowdy muttered, his voice muffled by the blanket.

  Rose hopped onto him and gave his head a hard, meaningful peck. Rowdy bolted straight upright, rubbing the top of his head.

  “Sheesh!” he said irritably, twisting his stiff body to place his sore feet on the floor. He walked painfully to his breakfast and gobbled it down robotically.

  Rose dropped his leather belt with the knife in the holster on his lap.

  As Rowdy finished his breakfast, he traced his fingers along the leather, feeling his fingers tingle. He felt energized by the belt, and by the time he put it around his waist, he was ready to run the stiffness out of his muscles.

  Another crisp, sunny spring day greeted them as they embarked on their second day of training.

  He ran a bit faster than the previous day. They conquered the two hills and the long dirt road. They scaled up and down the pine trees, drank water, and still had time to backtrack for lunch in the vast field on the other side of the road.

  As Rose flew back to Granny’s to pick up his lunch, Rowdy studied the fresh footprints in the old snow that clung stubbornly in patches to the field grasses.

  He felt uneasy. His belt tingled, and he moved his fingers toward his knife.

  There were boot prints and shoe prints. There were big prints and small, boy and girl. He looked around the endless field but could see nothing. The tracks led to a single clump of trees, thick and shadowy.

  He peered at the clump and almost shrieked when his lunch bag fell on his head. He shook a fist at Rose, tucked his lunch under his arm, and began following the tracks. Rose flew on ahead, disappearing into the clump of trees.

  Rowdy’s senses were keen as he approached the trees. He saw Rose perched on top of the tallest crown, looking into the shadows below her.

  The sun was bright against his eyes. The sound of his boots crunching on snow and frozen grass filled his ears. Before he got too close, he stopped and turned his head, listening.

  He heard voices and snickering coming from the shadows. He listened some more. Someone was swearing. He recognized the voice as Hugo’s and felt his dread increase at once.

  He immediately turned to leave, not wanting another confrontation with the bully, but it was too late. Hugo’s familiar voice shouted out at him, telling him to stay where he stood, and the familiar sounds of his group’s snickering ensued.

  Hugo, three of his stooges, Jordyn, and Jessica poured out onto the field.

  Jordyn.

  Despite his increasing dread, the sight of Jordyn with her long brown hair flowing behind her gave Rowdy a jolt. He felt his face flush. They made eye contact, and she held his gaze boldly as she approached, her smile wide and welcoming.

  Jessica bounced along behind her, the two seemingly inseparable.

  Hugo walked straight up to Rowdy with a dumb-looking snarl on his lips. Before he could open his mouth, Jordyn called out, “Hi, Rowdy! What are you doing out here?”

  Hugo whipped his blond head around and glared at her. Everyone stared at her.

  “You know this little baby?” he asked her in a threatening tone. She reacted with a look of apology and opened her mouth to speak.

  “We’re just neighbors,” Rowdy said with false confidence, coming to her rescue.

  “Nobody asked for your opinion, loser.” Hugo’s angry, piggy gaze was back on Rowdy. He studied him for a while and folded his arms across his chest.

  He grimaced and snickered.

  “Oh, I get it. The little loser likes Jordyn. That it?” Hugo’s group laughed loudly while Hugo retreated to put his arm around Jordyn, who stiffened and looked down uncertainly.

  “That’s pretty funny, dork. Let’s settle this right now then. Show her which one of us is the whiny little loser.” Hugo sauntered back up to Rowdy and pushed him in the chest with his fingertips.

  Rowdy adjusted his footing into a wide, stable stance. Allowing himself to be pushed around was one thing; allowing a girl to be threatened was another. His dread turned to anger and adrenaline. He was fueled up. He looked straight into the piggy eyes.

  “No,” he said, and this time his confidence was real.

  Hugo raised his eyebrows in disbelief. He turned around to smirk at the group behind him. Jordyn reached out. “Hugo, don’t…” she began, but Jessica yanked her friend back by the arm.

  Hugo glared at Jordyn, then laughed.

  “You like this little dweeb?” This seemed to make him considerably more riled up, and Jordyn shot Rowdy a look of pity and apology.

  Hugo balled up his fists and jabbed Rowdy on the shoulder.

  Rowdy took a step back, keeping his hands at his sides, feeling the handle of his knife with his right one.

  “I said no.” His voice was deep and determined. He felt a chilly breeze pull at the hair across his forehead. The knife grew hot in his palm.

  Hugo stepped forward with a good swift punch to the other shoulder, but Rowdy dodged him, stepped back, and held the knife up firmly between them. Hugo’s eyes widened and locked with Rowdy’s; no one blinked. The group around them stood motionless.

  He heard Jordyn gasp.

  Suddenly, Rose swooped down like a lightning bolt and dug her claws into Hugo’s back, ripping at his orange windbreaker.

  He screamed in alarm and jumped around, waving his arms.

  Rowdy put his knife away. He jogged back to Granny’s house without looking back. He was still giggling at the expression of horror on Hugo’s face when Rose caught up to him.

  “You were amazing, Aunt Rose!” he shouted, then burst into a fresh fit of laughter.

  Rose bowed her head and did a dance.

  While they waited for Granny’s return, Rowdy pushed himself through a grueling routine of push-ups, sit-ups, and jumping jacks.

  He cleaned up in the tub. This time the only vision he saw in his mind was that of Jordyn. He decided, with butterflies in his stomach, that he must have impressed her. As he washed the sweat off his body, he puffed his chest out, watching the water trickle off his shiny skin. He imagined his muscles getting bigger and stronger, and he liked the feeling.

  With Granny arriving late that day, Rowdy had to put his dirty clothes back on. But he didn’t mind. He pictured Jordyn’s wide smile and smiled back.

  Granny was not happy when he told her the story over supper that evening. She was speechless as Rowdy recounted the day’s events between forkfuls of supper. He felt happier than he had since his mother had died, but that didn’t stop her from scolding both him and the crow.

  “You two brought unwanted attention to us,” she said, her voice icy.

  Rowdy stopped laughing and put his fork down. He glanced over at Rose. Her head was down, shoulders hunched in shame.

  He met his granny’s crystal eyes that had grown fierce and put his own head down.

  “You clean up your supper dishes and go straight to bed,” Granny ordered. “There will be no stories of Sionnin tonight.”

  Granny retreated down the hallway to the locked door. He heard her keys jingle, and then all was dead quiet.

  He gave Rose a swift look of apology. He did as Granny had instructed. He didn’t sleep well that night, the wheels in his head churning ceaselessly, wreaking havoc with his emotions. His desire for Jordyn was increasing too, causing a storm of feelings he hadn’t known before. He tossed and turned.

  The next morning Rowdy was sorer and
stiffer than he had been the previous day.

  Rose had to do a test flight to make sure the coast was clear of Hugo before leading the training that day.

  Granny did not mention the event or the punishment. Instead, she talked about Rowdy’s dad.

  “He’s getting better, I think,” Granny told him. “He wants to see you for supper tonight. Do I need to remind you to keep our project a secret?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

  “No, Granny,” he replied sheepishly. He was grateful when Rose flew in to lead him out the door.

  The day was gray with a mist in the air. He welcomed the coolness on his face. There must have been some activity on the field because Rose was leading him in a different direction.

  He followed along until they got to a steep hill, where he spent the whole morning running up and down the slope until his legs burned and his knees wobbled underneath him.

  The afternoon was spent working his upper body. He did push-ups and pull-ups, his hands getting wet, cold, and dirty. It was wet and chilly all day, and whenever he stopped moving, the dampness would creep under his skin.

  From time to time, Rose would fly up and scan the area for signs of Hugo.

  Rowdy was bedraggled when he made his way back to Granny’s house. His body ached, his stomach growled, his thick hair was plastered to his face. It was getting long, and it tangled in the damp air.

  He was shivering with his head bent when he entered the house, not realizing a guest was there.

  Jordyn and Granny were bent over a pile of dried herbs and flowers at the table. Granny was teaching Jordyn the names and uses for each one. They stopped and looked up at him.

  Rowdy felt his face flush. Self-consciously he wiped his wet hair out of his eyes. Jordyn’s green eyes sparkled at him, making his chest squeeze tight.

  Suddenly Rose flew in and landed on the back of a chair. She fluffed her feathers, creating a cloud of mist. She folded her wings in tightly and hunched her shoulders up to get warm.

  Jordyn stared at the crow with her mouth hanging open.

  “That’s your pet crow, isn’t it, Granny?” she exclaimed with awe. “That crow protected Rowdy the other day! All the kids are talking about it!”