She was so busy staring and wondering that she almost forgot she was supposed to be looking for the injured Crow boy. When she stumbled suddenly onto a dirt road snaking through the trees, its edges banked in moss and ferns, she looked for footprints.
But as it turned out, she didn’t have to find him at all.
He found her, dropping out of a tree with a knife in his hand. He crouched there, eyes narrow, his face white with pain she could tell he fought to hide.
“You! Why are you following me?” he asked. “Did you tell anyone you saw me?”
She scowled at his knife. “I said I would bring you something to eat, so I did. You must be a special kind of stupid, jumping out of trees with a bare blade. Are you trying to get impaled? Again?”
He frowned, sheathed his knife, and stepped back. “I’m not hungry.”
“Really?” She lifted one skeptical eyebrow and unslung her knapsack. She took out a round of her seedbread and waved it at Nox. He shrugged and looked away, but when she tossed it at him, he caught it and sniffed before taking a bite.
“There.” He talked as he chewed. “Food delivered. Promise kept. You can go home now.”
“Right,” she said slowly. “Actually, about that … I was thinking, I helped you, so maybe you could help me.”
He groaned. “I knew it. I knew being nice would come back to smack me in the face. I should never have told you about the wild card thing.”
“You’re still hurt,” she pointed out. “Someone has to change your bandages, watch for infection. You can barely walk as it is.”
“I’ve survived worse than this on my own.”
“I brought you a shirt too.” She pulled out a charcoal-colored tunic she’d grabbed on her way out of the house, from the bin where Mother Rosemarie kept clothes ready in case a new orphan turned up. It was probably too large for him, but it was clean and untorn, which was far more than could be said for his current shirt. His clothes, consisting of a loose linen shirt, leather vest, and pants tucked into shin-high boots, were all as black as his wings and hair, but the sash he wore for a belt was bloodred.
He didn’t even look at the shirt. “Go home, Sparrow. I travel alone.”
He turned and walked down the road.
Ellie shouldered her knapsack and followed.
“Stop following me!”
“I’m not. I just happen to be going in the same direction.”
He turned, his arms folded across his chest and his black wings unfurled, as if to block her way, and she saw the pinch of pain around his eyes at the movement.
“I’m not even going straight to Thelantis,” he said. “I have a stop to make on the way. A … an errand. For a powerful lord back home.”
“Great! I can help with that too. As long as it doesn’t take too much time, of course.”
He started shaking his head, but Ellie plunged on.
“Perseverance,” she declared. “It’s the tenth step on the King’s Ladder, one of the virtues a knight must embody. And if there’s one thing you should know about me on this journey we’re taking together—”
“There is no journey!” he protested. “We are not together!”
Ellie continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “—it’s that I am going to be a Goldwing knight, and that means sticking to the steps of the King’s Ladder no matter what.”
Nox gave a long, loud groan.
Ellie folded her arms, unshakable.
“Ugh …” His voice faded, and his head cocked to the side as he studied her. His eyes were black as coals. “What about your parents? I can’t have some half-crazed Sparrows come looking for you and find me too.”
“I don’t have any. Do you?”
He deflected with a shrug. “Aunts, uncles?”
“No one will come looking, I swear.” The Sparrow clan would search the fields and perhaps go as far as Mossy Dell, but not for two or three days, when they were sure she’d really, truly run away. And she’d be far gone by then. Mother Rosemarie had plenty of other kids to watch; she couldn’t very well go flitting across the Clandoms in search of one runaway.
“Yeah?” He looked doubtful. “What lie did you tell them? That you were going to visit a friend?”
Her wings bristled in offense. “I never lie. Honesty is the third step in the King’s Ladder, you know.”
“Right.” Nox looked supremely skeptical. He took the tunic from her. “Well, maybe you could be useful. Help me with my errand, and you can come with me to Thelantis.”
She opened her mouth, but he cut her off.
“There are rules,” he said. “First of all, I’m in charge, Elma.”
“Ellie.”
“Whatever. It’s dangerous out here, and you’re …” He made a vague gesture at her small stature. “How far from your farm have you even been, anyway? Mossy Dell?”
Ellie gave a weak smile.
“Great skies,” breathed Nox. “Not even that far? You’re practically a fledgling!”
Bristling, Ellie shot back, “I saved your life!”
He rolled his eyes. “Second rule: Stay quiet and out of my way. This is a serious errand I’m on, and I don’t need some country kid screwing it up.”
But Ellie only half listened. Her heart soared with adrenaline and terror and excitement. This was happening. Really, truly happening. She was setting off on an adventure, like one of the heroes in her book. Even more important, the day she’d seen her parents buried in the clan cemetery, she’d made a promise: to make their deaths count. To make them proud.
And now she was finally keeping it.
“Are you coming or not?” Nox called.
Ellie drew in a long breath, then began walking.
They reached Mossy Dell a few hours before nightfall. Nox was relieved, not just because it meant a chance to rest his throbbing shoulder but because it meant a break from the Sparrow girl.
She had spewed an endless stream of questions as they walked. Have you ever seen the ocean? How many people live in Thelantis? Have you ever seen the king or queen? Are they as beautiful as they look in their portraits?
All Nox had given her in reply had been sullen grunts, until she’d finally given up. He’d never appreciated silence quite so much. But even when she wasn’t talking, the Sparrow was constantly moving, bounding, fluttering into the air, squealing when she saw a flower or a chipmunk or a dewy spiderweb.
Honestly, he was starting to have second thoughts about letting her come along.
But he did need an extra pair of hands, and this job was important enough to endure five chatty Sparrow girls if he had to.
“Is this Mossy Dell?” she asked as the town came into view. “Is there a tavern here? Adventurers always go to taverns. Will there be stew? Adventurers always eat—”
“Enough!” groaned Nox. “For the love of all things feathered, stop asking questions.”
The road followed a high ridge, with Mossy Dell huddled in the glade below. Stone steps set into the bank led down to the houses and shops, which clustered together between massive oaks. Buildings encircled the trunks and spread on wooden platforms between the enormous branches. Ladders and rickety stairs zigzagged through the canopy, but most of the people simply flew from place to place. The sound of their fluttering wings filled the air. At the back of Mossy Dell, a bright waterfall tumbled down a rocky bluff into a bubbling stream that wound through the houses. Lanterns of multicolored glass were strung between the trees.
“How pretty it must look at night,” said the Sparrow girl. “All those lanterns lit, like stars on strings …”
Nox started down the steps, careful not to slip on the moist stones. “Are you coming or not, Elfie?”
“Is your errand in Mossy Dell?” she asked.
“No, but I’m meeting my crew—uh, I mean, my companions—here. They’ll be waiting somewhere nearby.” He added wryly, “Probably wherever the food is cheapest.” Or least guarded, he thought.
“Companions? Whatever happened to I tr
avel alone?” She dropped her voice to a mocking growl.
He ignored that. “C’mon. Let’s circle through the trees. The fewer people who see us, the better.”
“Why?”
“We’re kids, on our own, no parents. What would the people in your town do if we just strolled through?”
“Drag us straight to the mayor or Mother Rosemarie for our own good,” she sighed.
The residents of Mossy Dell were busy today, chatting, trading, arguing, or simply sprawling on branches, wings spread to catch the sunlight. Nox saw Orioles, Jays, Robins, and a few red-winged children who had to be Cardinal clan. These last were engaged in a game of chase, flying at reckless speeds, their wings crimson blurs. Mossy Dell was, he recalled, the clan seat of the Cardinals, just as Linden was for Sparrow clan and Thelantis for Eagle clan.
Nox navigated around the edge of the town, through thick patches of fern and ivy. To his begrudging surprise, the Sparrow girl moved as silently as he did, following his steps and avoiding dry leaves. They crept behind houses and massive tree trunks, small, overgrown gardens fenced in by sticks, a smithy, a stable, an apothecary, then the largest building in the town—a two-story inn. Its roof was completely covered in moss, the walls shrouded in ivy. The wooden boards looked rotted from the perpetual dampness of the forest.
“Are your friends in there?” she asked.
“They’re not friends,” he said. “More like colleagues. And I doubt it. They won’t want to be seen either. But judging by the smell of the blackberry pie coming out of this place, they’ve got to be close. Gussie can’t resist blackberry.”
He pushed through the undergrowth, heading toward the waterfall. Here, ferns arced over their heads and white stones jutted from the ground, frilly with moss and pale lichen. Finally, Nox stopped in front of a particularly thick tangle of briars and said, “Hmm.” He ran his finger over a dark red substance slimed over a prickly vine.
“Blood?” the Sparrow girl whispered.
He popped the finger into his mouth, grinning at her look of disgust. “Blackberry. Told you.”
“That bush is moving,” Ellie said, pointing at a nearby laurel. “Is it your—oof!”
Something small, furry, and angry came flying out of the bush to land on the Sparrow girl’s face. It chittered and scrabbled over her head while she gasped and tried to grab it. To her credit, Nox thought, she didn’t scream.
“Twig,” he said calmly as the creature burrowed into the girl’s shirt. “Call off your attack rat, will you?”
A whistle sounded from inside the bush, and at once, the creature leaped back into the leaves, leaving the Sparrow covered in scratches. She breathed hard, glaring at Nox.
“What was that?”
“Well,” came an indignant voice from inside the bush, “Lirri is not a rat, she’s a pronged marten, and I’d appreciate it if you’d start calling her that, Nox.”
Nox pushed aside the briars and leaves to reveal a pair of kids tucked inside the thicket, a half-eaten blackberry pie between them. They looked like they’d been camped out there for a while. Their knapsacks were half unpacked, clothes and boxes and bundles spilling out, and between them sat a large wooden box bound with leather straps.
“Sparrow girl,” he said, “meet my crew. The muddy one is Twig, and the grouchy one is Gussie—or Agustina, if you want to get on her bad side. I’m kidding, of course. All her sides are bad sides. Crew, this is Elbow.”
“Ellie,” the Sparrow said through her teeth. “My name is Ellie Meadows. Pleased to meet you both.”
Twig was a short boy with an explosion of tangled orange hair and a perpetual sunburn on his pale skin. Born to parents of two different clans, he had one brown Mockingbird wing beside one Crane white. He was also the dirtiest person Nox had ever known. It was impossible to tell what marks on his face were freckles and which were mud. Leaves stuck out of his hair. His shirt was so grubby and torn up it hardly passed for clothing anymore.
A long, furry creature was draped over his shoulder, watching them all with open disdain. Lirri looked part squirrel, part ferret. She had two small white horns on her head and could pack more raw fury in her tiny body than a starving bear.
Twig waved at the Sparrow girl. “Hi!”
“Grouchy?” echoed the other kid, glaring at Nox. “You’d be grouchy too if you’d been stuck in a shrub with this walking mud pie for two days. Where have you been, Nox? What happened to your shoulder? And what’s with the Sparrow?”
Gussie was tall, strongly built, and sported two puffs of curls just a shade darker than her acorn-brown skin, bound in precise buns over each ear. Against her spine were folded the long striped wings of the Falcon clan. Her clothing bulged with many added pockets, each one filled with cogs, wires, nails, and other pieces she salvaged from trash, gutters, broken-down wagons. When she moved, all her scavenged parts jingled slightly, like a jester’s bells.
“I got held up,” Nox said. “I was chased by those bandits who attacked us.” He gave each of them a hard look, and saw them catch his hidden meaning. “They nicked me with an arrow, so I brought the Sparrow to help with the errand.”
“Right,” said Twig, nodding slowly. “Bandits. Errand. Good thinking.”
“And good timing,” said Gussie. “If I had to spend one more night in this bush with this orange-haired health hazard, I swear I’d have dragged him under that waterfall and scrubbed him down with his own ferret. You know he hasn’t bathed since we left Thelantis?”
“Hey!” Twig objected, patting the furry little head on his shoulder. “First of all, pronged marten. Second of all, I haven’t taken a bath in three years, just so’s we’ve all got the facts straight.” This last he pronounced with all the pride of a Hawk warrior declaring he’d set a weight-lifting record. “I got three-year-old dirt in places you don’t even—”
“Stop!” Gussie cried, clapping her hands over her ears. “Ugh, Nox, he’s positively feral!”
“What’s a pronged marten?” asked the Sparrow. “I’ve never heard of one.”
“They’re extremely rare,” said Twig, feeding an acorn to the creature. “Extremely cute. And extremely dangerous.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” muttered Ellie, putting a hand to the scratches on her neck.
“What is she, anyway?” asked Gussie, eyeing the Sparrow girl suspiciously. “A scrubdown? Sniffup? Shinybob?”
Ellie blinked. “Are those real words?”
“She’s a fighter,” Nox said. “And she’s going to help with our little errand.”
“Well,” she said, “more knight in training than fighter.”
“Hmm, so she’s a knockfist,” said the Falcon girl, looking unconvinced. “Shame, we could’ve used a scrubdown, but I guess you’ll do.”
“Enough talking,” said Nox. “Let’s move. We have a very narrow window of opportunity and a lot more road to cover by tomorrow night, especially now that we’re going to have to walk the whole way.” He looked down ruefully at his bandaged shoulder.
“What is this errand, anyway?” asked Ellie. “And why do you need three people for it?”
“It’s a delivery,” said Nox, tapping the box beside Gussie with the toe of his boot. “And the place we’re taking this box to is only accessible by air.”
“It takes three people to lift Old Bricky Brickface here,” said Twig, scowling at the box.
“What’s inside?” Ellie asked.
“Bricks, you’d think,” Twig moaned.
Nox shrugged. “We don’t know what’s in it. Not our business. But if we make the drop in time, we’ll get a nice payment back in Thelantis.”
“From this lord you work for?”
Twig snorted, and Nox jabbed his shin with his foot. “Yes, from the lord.”
“Okay.” Ellie shrugged. “Sounds easy. I’m in.”
“Exactly,” said Nox, with a curling grin. “Easy.”
They left Mossy Dell without ever visiting the tavern, to Ellie’s disappointmen
t. But Nox pushed them at such a relentless pace that nobody even had breath for talking. The Crow boy had a map of Bluebriar Forest and all its little roads and led them deeper into the woods with the ruthless command of a soldier. By evening, Ellie was panting.
“It’s nearly dark,” Gussie pointed out, breathing even harder than Ellie was. “Nox, we have to take a break.”
He frowned but gave in. “Fine. Let’s make camp. Nellie, why don’t you scout for a spot? Off the road, someplace hidden.”
She was now sure that he was messing her name up on purpose, just to bug her. “Me?”
“You’ve got the shortest wingspan. You can fly through the trees easier than Gussie or Twig.”
She nodded, feeling pleased to be entrusted with such a responsibility, and spread her wings. Flying through the trees was tricky work, but nothing she hadn’t trained herself for. Of course, she’d only practiced this sort of flying using fence posts. The principles were the same, though, and she tacked this way and that, maneuvering in a swooping zigzag. Ellie drifted through the trees, through dappled patches of sunlight as delicate as lace.
When she spotted a likely campsite, she returned to the others to lead them to it. It was a clear bank beside a small stream, covered in fallen leaves and hillocks of fuzzy moss. Nox looked around, deemed it suitable, and then sank weakly to his knees, his hand on his injured shoulder.
“Let me have a look,” said Ellie.
While she applied more poultice to his wound, Twig and Gussie assembled firewood, though Twig returned with more creatures than sticks. By the time they’d collected a pile of wood, each of his pockets had become home to a different animal—mouse, cricket, chipmunk, lizard, snake, and hedgehog. He was a walking menagerie.
“Where did you find them all?” Ellie asked, watching him pat the hedgehog’s little nose.
“It’s more like … they find me,” he said. Lirri, curled around his neck like a handkerchief, glared jealously at the hedgehog.
“Twig, scout around,” Nox said. “I don’t want anyone sneaking up on us. You know, bandits and such.”
Sparrow Rising Page 4