A Girl Called Owl

by Amy Wilson

  ‘We are met,’ she says, her voice carrying easily through the clearing. ‘All but the one summoned, I see . . .’

  ‘He’ll be here,’ the Earl says, his tone clipped. ‘He wouldn’t miss the chance to be the centre of attention. Alberic!’

  My breath gets stuck in my throat as Alberic steps forward out of the gloom at the far end of the lake. His head is lowered, his shoulders round, as if he’s trying to disappear into the earth itself.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘My son has been acting on our behalf in the human world,’ says the Earl to the gathered crowd. ‘So, what have you for us?’ His cold eyes flick up and down Alberic dispassionately and Alberic shifts his feet, keeping his eyes on the ground.

  He’s the Earl’s son.

  My heart thumps and a sheen of frost spreads instantly over my limbs. It won’t compute. He must have known, when we spied on them. That was why he stumbled and ran away, he didn’t want me to hear what they were saying. And then later, when I told him I’d met the Earl . . . he said nothing! Nothing except that the Earl wasn’t a fan of humankind.

  ‘I . . .’

  ‘Come on, speak up!’ shouts someone from the edge of the lake. ‘What have you learned from your time at the human school?’

  A smattering of laughter bursts out around the clearing, though the Lady in the Lake does not smile, her eyes hard on the Earl before shifting to Alberic.

  ‘Tell us what you have found,’ she says gently. ‘We must know, if we are to make decisions.’

  Alberic trains his eyes on the Lady, and when he speaks his voice is clear.

  ‘She is modestly talented. She has some of his traits. She exhibits some signs of them in public, though not enough that it has been noticed. She is unusual . . .’

  I can barely stand still, I’m so furious. He lied to me. Over and over, he pretended to be interested, to be my friend. He poured all that doubt on my stories of spies and it turns out he was the biggest spy of them all! All this time he’s just been getting information, working for his father. This cannot be happening. I cannot have been this much of an idiot.

  No wonder he didn’t want me to be here.

  ‘Unusual?’ barks the Earl. ‘I should think so, being who she is! She can hardly be a standard human, can she? And yet she does not belong with us either.’

  Alberic flinches, looking down at the ground again.

  ‘Does her power grow? Can she control it?’ the Lady asks.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he says. ‘There is no . . . there is no . . .’ He runs his hand through his hair, clears his throat. ‘She is powerful, a bit chaotic. But there is no reason to think she would be a danger, either here or there.’

  ‘That is not for you to judge,’ the Earl says in a harsh voice, gesturing for Alberic to return to the shadows.

  ‘Thank you, Alberic,’ says the Lady. ‘We must discuss this carefully, Sorbus. We cannot disappear a human easily.’

  Disappear a human? An icy shudder rolls over me but I plant my feet more firmly into the cold ground, determined to hear this out. Determined to help Jack, if I can. At least he hasn’t lied to me.

  ‘Of course there will be careful discussion, Belisama,’ the Earl says. ‘As leader of this cycle I shall endeavour to ensure every law of this Royal Court of Mother Earth is upheld, and that every obligation is satisfied.’

  The Lady turns slightly from him, her expression unreadable. I try to breathe normally, increasingly aware of how vulnerable I am here, how easy it would be for someone to spot me in the shadow of the trees. I shift my weight, to ease the growing numbness in my feet, and my elbow grazes the outermost branch of a huge oak tree behind me.

  The owl lifts its head and looks directly into my eyes.

  My heart swells as it studies me, and I find myself taking a step towards the lake, as the tree behind me shifts into me. I spin, my heart hammering in my chest, to see the roots and branches of the oak gathering together with impossible speed, forming a great oaken giant of a man.

  ‘Green Man!’ the Lady calls. ‘I hear you stirring. Come, join us!’

  ‘There are more interesting creatures than me with us today,’ the strange tree-figure rumbles behind me, reaching out and grasping me at the waist between his thickened, twisted fingers. ‘I have a stray here. What creature is this?’

  I shriek and try to escape as he steps forward with me, holding me at arm’s length as if I smell bad. A gasp rolls through the crowd gathered below and I notice a sparkle in the Earl’s eyes. He looks delighted, and I realize that somehow my being here has only made things better for him. I fight harder to get away from the Green Man as we near the lake. People part to make way for the lumbering tree-figure, and as I kick against him the owl rises from the Lady’s wrist, coming towards me on silent, powerful wings. It circles the Green Man, getting closer and closer until he’s forced to stop.

  ‘What is it?’ he grumbles. ‘Do you not like my prisoner?’ He looks at me with his hollow eyes, and I cannot make out the expression in them at all. ‘She does not look like a terrible danger to me.’

  The owl flaps harder, blowing my hair back from my face. She looks at me and I am caught there, in the blink of her eye, in a moment so vast, so full of possibility, that I can hardly breathe.

  And then the Green Man staggers back, and the spell is broken.

  ‘By!’ he roars. ‘Night creature, here, you may have her!’ He thrusts me on to the ground and the owl stops its silent attack, gliding back to the Lady, who has been watching it all with what just might be humour on her narrow face.

  ‘So,’ she says, looking me up and down as I hurry to my feet, feeling exposed and a bit horrified at having been hurled around by a tree. ‘You must be the daughter of Jack Frost.’

  ‘I am,’ I say, my voice wobbling, but carrying quite nicely, in the circumstances.

  ‘And what is your given name?’

  I glance at the owl, who blinks its enormous yellow eyes at me.

  Courage, Owl.

  ‘I’m called Owl,’ I say.

  There’s a commotion in the crowd. I back away, wondering if I can just run, but the Earl stands, raising his long arms. The woman next to him doesn’t move a muscle, but her eyes glint as she watches me.

  ‘Enough!’ shouts the Earl, clapping his hands, a flurry of autumn leaves cascading from the trees. ‘This is the Royal Court! There shall be order here. Girl.’ He turns to me, face tight with rage. ‘Do you dare to stand there and lie to us all?’

  ‘I’m not lying!’ I retort, flinching as he claps his gnarled hands together.

  ‘Alberic!’

  ‘Yes, Father?’ Alberic looks more stooped than ever before as he steps forward.

  ‘You knew of this name?’

  ‘Yes, Father.’

  ‘And you did not tell us?’

  ‘I did not see the significance,’ mumbles Alberic, his face flushed.

  ‘She has a spirit guide!’ the Earl roars. ‘The owl is connected to her!’

  ‘The owl is our herald, Sorbus,’ says the Lady smoothly. ‘She means us no harm. And if she is connected to the girl, what does that matter? We were not about to harm her, were we?’

  ‘She is a danger,’ says the woman next to the Earl in a smooth, melodic voice that seems familiar, staring at me. ‘Alberic has told us she is chaotic. And above all else she is clear evidence that Jack has forgotten his place in the world . . .’

  ‘Did you speak of me?’ says a voice behind me. Jack steps forward, as if he’s been here all along. Perhaps he has, I think, looking at the pinched expression on his face. Though he’s dwarfed in height by some of the others here, his presence is far greater, the air around him rings cold and bright with his power. ‘Shall we begin, Sorbus? This is no child of mine. It is not possible. Her only crime is delusion. And her connection to the bird may well explain her peculiarities . . .’ My heart twists painfully in my chest: he’s so harsh. There’s no doubt, no question in his voice. He dismisses me as though I
truly am nothing to him, even after the time we’ve spent together.

  ‘The connection to the “bird” is not the issue here,’ says the Lady in an acid tone. ‘If anything it is a good thing – perhaps she is wiser than some of us. Jack, you are mistaken. Look at the girl. She is more clearly yours than Alberic is his father’s . . .’

  The crowd of figures around the lake begins to talk loudly. Some of them are truly outraged at my presence, and most seem at least a little flustered. Alberic lifts his head, just slightly, though he won’t look in my direction.

  If he did I might decide to try out my laser ice eyes. I mean, I might have them. They would be useful in this situation.

  I can’t believe he’s been spying on me.

  I can’t believe how much it hurts.

  ‘Silence!’ shouts the Earl after a moment, standing to full height, his skin mottled with rage. ‘We all know of my previous indiscretion; I was punished for it! Two long years of solitude – I paid my debt. And Alberic has served us well, over the years.’ He refuses to look at his son; instead his dark, glinting eyes are focused on me and my father. ‘Besides, I am not one of the elementals, though autumn is my charge. It is forbidden for them to consort with humans in any way! This is a most heinous crime, and one that I demand is met with like punishment!’

  There’s a swell of agreement in the crowd. Jack and I stand in the midst of it now, and he’s like a storm beside me, the very air freezing around us.

  ‘What does that mean, Sorbus?’ the Lady asks in a calm voice. ‘What would you do?’

  ‘He must be banished!’

  ‘It is his season, and he is Jack Frost! We cannot banish him just as winter begins.’

  A crafty look comes over the Earl’s face, though he is quick to assume a neutral expression, one of humility, almost.

  ‘It is not an easy decision,’ he says. ‘We all know of Jack’s power, of the importance of his job, but he has grown arrogant, over the years. He does not work to serve Mother Earth, he does it for his own pleasure and pride. Evenings spent dancing on ice, splintering windows just because he can. These things cannot go unpunished forever!’

  ‘What do you charge me with, Sorbus?’ Jack asks in a leaden voice. ‘With being myself? It is not a crime. I am not a servant to mankind, or to order. I am not some fussing minor creature, bent on nothing more than gaining power over my peers. What power I have is mine, given to me by Mother Earth herself. I am who I am, what I am. Winter’s edge is pitiless as it makes its way across the world – without it, all would perish.’

  ‘No matter what else is said,’ the woman next to the Earl puts in as she lowers her hood, palest pink hair falling to her waist, ‘you have broken one of the fundamental laws of this court, Jack. You have consorted with humanity. You have created a creature half human and half of yourself.’ She shoots me a venomous look and I feel a shock of recognition. That pink hair, that voice . . . She’s the Queen of May, the one we overheard talking with the Earl that day. She’s behind this, and she’s not about to let it go now. ‘It cannot go unmarked,’ she continues. ‘Chaos would ensue. If Boreas could spawn children, if the Morning Star had a flock of his own, the world would be changed forever.’

  There are murmurs of assent. I close my eyes and pinch myself, but the sense of magic is still thick in the air, and my father beside me is a physical manifestation of the most glacial rage there has ever been.

  ‘I did no such thing!’ he protests.

  ‘Why, Jack?’ asks the Lady. ‘Why do you persist in this lie? Have you not seen it for yourself? Look upon her! Have you ever seen such a creature?’

  He turns his eyes to me. My heart thuds as he looks me up and down, his silver eyes cool and assessing. I try to stay calm, try not to care one way or another, but there is no recognition there, not a sign that he cares for me at all. It wells up inside me and breaks, tears sliding down my cheeks to land as tiny ice crystals at my feet.

  ‘It isn’t possible!’ he bursts out, thin-lipped and pale with outrage, looking back at the Lady. ‘I was made for one thing only.’ His voice grows bitter. ‘I was made to herald winter, to travel the world alone, spreading the message that it was on its way. I have no mortality! I cannot create life!’

  The Lady breaks in and I think she’s saying something about change but Jack isn’t listening, he’s staring at me again, his eyes glittering, his hair thick with ice, and l don’t hear her either. I’m too busy wondering if he’s changing his mind.

  ‘A vote, I think,’ breaks in the Earl. ‘Let us vote. Whether or not Jack will admit fathering this creature is irrelevant. He is not a character to be trusted either way and that much he has proven well over the centuries. We can all see the truth here. Raise your hand if you consider him guilty of this crime!’

  Jack says nothing. He folds his arms and looks up at the sky as if he couldn’t care less.

  ‘But wait!’ My breath unleashes with a flurry of ice and everything stops, everything is still around me. I didn’t mean to speak, and yet here it is. My blood races as I realize this is the moment. This is the moment I could change things. A thousand inhuman eyes are all fixed on me, most of them unfriendly. I focus on the Lady. ‘They have plotted against him, they’ve been planning this all along!’

  ‘How dare you?’ shouts the Earl, standing to his full height, his fists clenched at his sides. He takes a great thumping step towards me, his narrow, mottled face contorted with rage. ‘How dare you interrupt the proceeds of this court, you—’

  ‘Sorbus!’ chides the Lady. ‘She is a child. She is Jack’s child, as you have charged her.’

  ‘The children of humans have no voice in the Royal Court,’ says the Queen, her voice calm despite a sudden blaze of colour through her cheeks. Her pink hair whips out around her face. ‘If she must be here, then she shall be silent.’

  ‘But this is what you wanted!’ I shout, fear turning into adrenalin, spiking through my veins, running icy fingers through my hair. ‘You and—’

  ‘Stop this!’ demands the Earl in a cracking voice. He takes a deep breath and steps back to the bench, lowering himself with a creak and folding his arms.

  ‘Enough. I have charged the court with Jack’s fate. We cannot let this creature stand in the way of that.’

  ‘Nor will we, Sorbus,’ says the Lady, her voice suddenly weary. ‘Let us proceed. Sit, child. He is right; you have no sway here.’

  Jack puts his hand on my arm but I refuse to look at him. He didn’t fight at all. He just stood there and let them shut me up. I risk a look at Alberic, who cannot help but meet my eye. He bites his lip and shrugs, as hands shoot up into the air from all directions: sprites; fairies, even some of the trees thrusting forward pale, twisted branches – far, far too many to be outvoted.

  Jack is going to be banished, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  Look what you did! I howl at Alberic in my mind, blinking back tears.

  He lowers his head.

  ‘It is done,’ the Earl says with a sigh of relief. The Queen is silent beside him but the look on her face is of pure delight.

  ‘You cannot banish me!’ Jack roars, stalking forward, down the bank to the lake. ‘Belisama! You cannot let this happen!’ The water begins to freeze as he storms towards it and the Lady takes a step back.

  ‘Jack,’ she says. ‘You are hiding from yourself. If you cannot see the truth in the charges, how may I help you? How may you be defended? The Earl is in his power still, and the vote has been cast. You have left your protest too late.’

  ‘No!’ he shouts. ‘This is my time! You cannot cast me out now. Are you so blind? Do you not see how important my work is?’

  ‘We will find a way around it,’ the Lady says, her voice growing tight, as ice rolls out like smoke around her. ‘Accept this, Jack, and return to your domain. It will not be forever!’

  ‘I shall not!’ he says, fixing his eyes on the Earl. He takes another step forward, on to the frozen lake, as storm clouds swir
l overhead and tiny daggers of hail begin to fall. The owl takes flight and the Lady brings her hands down hard on to the ice, splintering it into great chunks that fly up into the air around Jack, who flounders in suddenly turbulent waters.

  ‘I have a fond regard for thee,’ the Lady says to him in a low voice that makes the air shudder. ‘But you are not in power when you step into my territory. You have been charged, and found guilty. Now, GO!’ She brings her arms together and the waters rage around him until he is forced to drag himself out, pale and bedraggled.

  I race towards him, straining to see through hail and snow, my shoulders hunched against it, but he glances at me and puts out a restraining hand. ‘Not now,’ he says, his voice tense. ‘I must go where I am bid.’ He gives me a fleeting whisper of a smile. ‘Fly, while I am gone, little Owl. Remember all I have shown you and have no mercy, for the world is a cruel place and that is necessary. Life cannot flourish without a fight.’

  ‘Where’s your fight?’ I ask, ignoring the rest of the court, ice forming with every step I take. My skin glitters in the murky moonlight, and my heart is sinking, for I found him and now I’ll lose him, and still he hasn’t acknowledged me, even after all this. He will just leave me here with all these strangers who call me ‘creature’ as if I am something cursed and wrong. ‘Won’t you fight to stay, to do your work? For me?’

  He moves close, his voice low. The ground is white around us, even as the hail dies away. Fingers of frost stretch from my feet to his, meeting and blooming in the middle, spreading out across the grass to meet the restless roots of nearby trees.

  ‘I cannot stay. They will not allow me. If I fight for you then we are both lost. You cannot be mine. It is not possible!’