by A. C. Salter
“Have you ever ridden before?” he asked.
“No, Sir.”
He knew she didn’t say it to irritate him, it was born more out of the harsh discipline she had been brought up with and so he hid his displeasure. “Climb on her, Elaya.”
Unsure fingers stroked down the slender neck of the hummer as Elaya put her foot into the stirrup and slid her leg over the bird’s body. Her dragonfly-like wings flickered out as she righted herself before she grasped the reins.
Struggling to remember how Jambilee had instructed him to steer the finch, Dylap lay his hands over Elaya’s and moved them forwards and back, his mind going over the flight he had taken instead of the lessons themselves. It wasn’t until he felt her stiffen that he realised she was staring at the contact.
“This is how you control the altitude,” he explained, having to lean closer. “And this is how you steer.” He gently guided her hands, feeling her tremble beneath his touch. “What’s the matter?” he asked, withdrawing from her.
She remained quiet for a moment, staring out into the descending darkness before replying.
“Nobody has touched me before. Not intentionally, unless it was to mete out a punishment. I’m sorry, I don’t think I can do this.”
She made to climb off until Dylap closed his hands around hers once again. “Please,” he began but didn’t know what to say. She glanced up at him, bright eyes brimming with gratitude that sparked a warmth in his belly. “If it makes it any easier, I can put on gloves.”
“No,” she said, glancing away, but she remained in her seat, holding the reins.
Delicately, he lowered his hands to hers and began to guide them over the bird’s head, but it was clear that her concentration was elsewhere and Dylap got the impression that the tailors were still watching.
“This might be easier if we were in the air,” he suggested. “Would you mind shuffling back so I might slip in front of you?”
Elaya slid back to give him room. The spark in Dylap’s belly flashed hotter as her arms slipped around his waist.
“I thought the idea of me riding was because I was light. Surely we both weigh as much if not more than Mr or Mrs Tangilup?”
Ebbin suddenly chuckled, reminding them that he was there. “I doubt that,” he laughed as he led Noggin further along the branch to a knot he could sit on. “I’ll wait here then,” he said, producing a flat bread from his pocket and breaking it in two and offering a piece to the squirrel. “Take your time.”
Dylap nudged his heels in the hummer’s flanks and the bird rose high on it legs. Her wings flapping so fast that they produced a hum. He guided the bird over the tailor shop, pointing the narrow beak towards the less dense foliage of an elm.
“See? I’m using the reins to point her head in the direction I want to go,” he explained. “And by pressing with my knees, she picks up pace.”
He felt the warmth from her delicate jaw as she leaned over him, intent on watching his instructions as he was stealing glances at her. It was a face that seldom smiled or rarely felt joy, yet her eyes sparkled with intelligence. He wondered what she would be like if she had the chance to grow up amongst her own kind. Or if she was allowed to be brought up as a fairy of Farro instead of being treated as the cast-off of an enemy; hated and taunted in equal measure. So much so that she even hated herself.
“Shouldn’t you be looking where you’re going?” she asked.
Dylap guiltily glanced away, attempting to hide the fact that he had been staring by focusing his gaze above her. Yet it was clear he had been caught.
“Sorry, it’s just that I find it hard to believe the way you’re been used. It’s unfair.”
Elaya shrugged. “I am what I am, Sir. You were ill-treated after they pulled you from the Twine.”
“Not so much anymore,” he admitted. “But I will never fit in.”
They flew in silence, banking around trunks and weaving through branches. The hummer navigating with more ease than the finch, its rapidly beating wings allowing it to change direction in an instant. They saw only a handful of fairies that were returning home from work. They barley glanced at them. It was considered rude for the working-class to stare at the gentry – the only fae who were permitted to fly in the city, apart from a choice few. And the higher-classes didn’t venture into the city at night, unless you were the watch or the city guard.
Elaya watched his hands over his shoulder, her expression unreadable, yet he sensed an unease.
Guiding the bird to a bare branch he landed.
“Now it’s your turn.”
“I beg your pardon Sir, but I don’t think I’m ready.”
Dylap climbed off and handed the reins to Elaya. She took them cautiously as she shuffled into position.
“I think you are, and stop calling me Sir – there’s nobody here. We’re friends remember.”
The hummer shook its head and began preening itself, long sharp beak darting between feathers.
“What if I crash? I have wings so can fly to safety, but you will fall like a stone.”
“I have full faith in you, Elaya. Besides, I imagine I’d fall more like an acorn. But you won’t crash. The hummer is intelligent enough to know that you don’t mean to steer straight into a trunk or bough.”
He offered her a reassuring smile as he climbed on behind her.
“May I?” he asked, reaching his arms around her to steady her trembling hands. He felt her stiffen again and her teeth clenched, but she nodded. “Now look to where you want to go and press your heel into the hummer’s belly.”
Elaya shifted her gaze to an open space between the trees and put pressure on her heels.
The hummer instantly responded, leaping into the air as its wings made the humming sound.
Dylap guided her hands subtly to change course as they neared a branch, easing the bird back to fly over.
“How about we head to the river, its more open there?” he suggested.
“But what if we fall? You’ll land in the Twine and drown for sure.”
Dylap laughed, “I’ve been there, done that. Maybe the next time I’ll remember something.”
“It’s not funny,” she insisted, sternly.
“Don’t worry.”
He eased the pressure from her hands and let her guide the bird through Farro. She was a fast learner and steered the bird well enough and before long they picked up the stream and followed it out to the vast body of water.
There was still the lingering daylight, smouldering a deep red above the canopy, making the two-tone river, twin shades of pink. It reflected against her pale neck and jawline, highlighting the soft dimples he hadn’t noticed before.
“Beautiful,” he remarked, resting his hands once again atop Elaya’s and raising them to steer the bird lower.
“Yes, it is,” Elaya replied, although Dylap was sure she didn’t mean the same thing as he did.
Remembering how close he came to crashing the finch when he plummeted towards the waterwheel, Dylap came down slow, making long sweeping circles as they descended. Cool air rose from the waves, the fast-flowing river making turbulent splashes as the two colours intertwined but never mixed.
“Am I doing this right?” Elaya asked as they spiralled around a bulrush, the stem leaning towards them before they glided away above the rushing surface.
“You’re doing brilliantly. Better than my first lesson,” he admitted. “That nearly ended in disaster.”
Reluctantly removing his hands from hers, he gave her free rein and thought he saw a smile begin to touch her lips as she meandered the hummer from bank to bank.
“How long ago was that?”
“Erm…right before I came to give you a lesson.”
“What!”
Dylap lay his hand along the bird’s neck and sought contact with the hummer’s mind, expecting Elaya to fling the reins and fly away. But instead, she remained in control, although her smile had been replaced with a scowl.
“You’re m
ocking me,” she said, the smile beginning to creep back.
“Teasing,” he replied, allowing her to believe it was the truth. “It’s what friends do.”
They followed the current, the hummer’s shadow pursuing below as it drifted with the waves – black against the pinks.
“This is wonderful,” Elaya remarked as she breathed deeply before exhaling through a grin. She steered the bird closer to the water then rose again, her curt demeanour vanishing to be replaced by a playful fairy. “Can we go above the canopy?”
Dylap’s grin matched her. “Of course,” he whispered into her ear.
Pulling back on the reins, Elaya guided the hummer into a vertical climb, the wings beating so fast it was hard to make their shapes out. Her body slipped back against his, her head against his shoulder as the hummer carried them aloft.
By the time they had climbed above the city the sun had disappeared leaving a dusting of crimson clouds, the first stars twinkling through them.
“I’ve never been up here before,” Elaya admitted as her gaze drank in the vast sea of the forest roof. The lush greens and reds giving way to various shades of grey in the encroaching night.
“But you could have flown above the canopy anytime you wanted.”
Elaya shook her head. “No, I am always watched. Never trusted to go anywhere alone. That’s one of the clauses of me being taken on by a new master or mistress. They may receive any profit gained by my service but they hold the responsibility of keeping me.”
They swooped over the undulating troughs and peaks of the canopy, the tall reds rising through the foliage beyond the bright Alabaster, the royal guard circling around the Palace ever vigilant.
“Everything seems so peaceful up here,” Elaya said as she relaxed her knees and allowed the hummer to fly at a more leisurely pace. “Just us, the moon and the stars.”
“And the black falcon, wherever he is,” Dylap said, suddenly becoming aware how vulnerable they were out in the open.
“I heard it attacked you a few days back, but you fought it off with your stinging spines.”
Dylap laughed. “No, I hid and threw the bar of soap in its eye. Then the Prince and his men chased it off. I doubt any fairy could have fought that beast. It was so angry.”
“You were brave,” Elaya said.
“Brave? No, anybody can hide. And if you hadn’t have given me that soap block, I would probably be rotting in the monster’s belly. So, in a way, you saved my life. It’s just a shame you were sacked from your duties for talking to me.”
Elaya let out a laugh of her own. “If I wasn’t sacked for talking to you, it would have been something else. Besides, I didn’t like washing clothes.”
“And tailoring?”
“They feed me better and the shop is warm. Which reminds me, we better be heading back soon.”
“You’re in control, fly us back.”
Sighing deeply, Elaya cast her gaze over the starlit sky and guided the bird back towards a gap in the canopy.
“Maybe in the future the fae of Farro will come to treat you like one of their own and give you the respect you deserve,” Dylap said.
“I’m a split-wing,” Elaya replied coldly. “I’m only here as a reminder as to what evil there is in the forest.”
“And you believe that?” Dylap asked, incredulously. “You were only a small girl in the war. How are you evil?”
Elaya shrugged. “It’s all I know. I’ve had it drummed into me all my life.”
“It’s wrong. They’re wrong. There is no more evil in you than there is in me.”
“You have no memory. How do you know if you were evil or not?”
Dylap had to admit, she had a point. “Do you feel evil? Are you enticed to do evil deeds?”
“No,” Elaya replied flatly.
“Then your soul is good.”
“But split-wings are not.”
“We’re all stardust in the end,” he said, not knowing where that came from. “Everything around us: the trees, the sky, the sun and animals – it’s all stardust. Same as fairies, split-wing or not, we’re all made from the same matter. Stardust isn’t evil.”
“And the soul?”
“Stardust is the physical, it’s the special stuff in between that makes the person.”
Elaya remained quiet for a time, steering the bird towards the tailor’s shop.
“How do you know?”
It was Dylap’s turn to shrug. “I wish I knew. Most probably it’s a knowledge that I picked up from before the Twine.”
“I’ve never heard it before. It’s like something you might hear from a sister of the Blessed Mother or from scriptures.”
Ebbin came out to greet them and take the reins from Elaya as they disembarked. No sooner were their feet on the branch than the Tangilups emerged from the door in the trunk.
“Is she well, Sir?” Mr Tangilup asked as his wife glared at Elaya as if the bird’s health was her fault.
“I’m afraid she will need a lot of exercise,” Dylap answered, stroking the soft feathers behind the neck. “Light work with a light rider, perhaps twice a day.”
He could see the argument rising and so halted it before it could begin. “And Elaya is the perfect fairy for the job. Your hummer has grown accustomed to her already. She is a credit to you.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Mrs Tangilup said, patting the bird on the head.
“I meant Elaya. There isn’t many who can adapt to riding so well.”
“Oh,” was all the portly lady replied as she cast a single glance at her servant who was now standing behind them, head down and attempting to make herself unnoticeable.
“She is a tribute to your tutelage,” he continued, seeing Elaya’s cheeks flush. “Perhaps the Taming Tree may borrow her skills in the future?”
Clearing his throat, Mr Tangilup shared a look with his wife before shaking his head, heavy jowls bouncing. “Of course, Sir. But her skills are also needed in the shop. It might hurt our purse if we were to let her go. Maybe a small monetary agreement could be reached.”
“Of course,” Dylap replied. He wanted to say more - to at least say goodbye to Elaya, but thought he had pushed his luck with the tailors already. “I will return tomorrow evening for another lesson. Good night to you,” his eyes briefly flicked to Elaya but she didn’t look up, “and thank you for my clothes.”
Climbing onto Noggin, he and Ebbin set off along the branch, leaping from the end to the neighbouring tree and began to scramble up the trunk. The tailors had already gone back inside their shop, Elaya closing the door behind them.
“So?” Ebbin asked as they scurried along the limb of an oak, Noggin’s claws finding purchase in the rough wood. “Is Elaya as good as you made the Tangilups believe?”
“Yes, she handled the hummer as if she had always ridden,” he replied. Although in truth, he had touched the birds mind more than a few times when he felt it needed nudging.
“Incredible, the entire city will be talking about it by the morning. A split-wing riding a bird.”
“Let them talk,” Dylap shouted over his shoulder as Noggin landed on the fine trailing stems of a twisted willow and skipped along its tendril-like branches. “The more they get used to the idea that Elaya is more than the remnants of an enemy, the better they might treat her.”
“There’s a truth in that,” Ebbin said, then patted Dylap on the arm. “Shall we grab some bilburries on the way back?”
Dylap pulled on Noggin’s reins and set him on a different path towards the hollow tree and the secret bilburry vines hidden above.
12
Secrets Beyond the Web
Edvin grasped Dylap’s hand, shaking it firmly whilst smacking him playfully on the shoulder.
“I owe you my life,” he said, wincing as he touched his broken ribs. He leaned against the handrail on the steps, attempting to mask the pain with a crooked smile.
“You owe me nothing, Sir. If it hadn’t been for that crazed bird, I would be
gutting worms this morning,” Dylap replied, feeling a little embarrassed as others came out from the Master House having finished breakfast and paused to watch the exchange. Edvin was a local hero and seldom visited the Aviary.
“That crazed bird was about to tear my head from the rest of my body,” Edvin said, leading him away from the gathering fae. “And you no longer need to call me sir. If anything, I must address you with the higher title.”
They walked along the branch to the newly erected bridge that joined the two tall reds together, the fresh rope creaking as it swayed in a breeze, still smelling of resin and the wood was a pale green yet to be sealed in wax.
“I wouldn’t like that,” Dylap admitted. It was bad enough having to be called ‘Sir’ by the fairies that came seeking help for their birds, let alone the others in the Aviary who wouldn’t meet his eyes or bowed as he passed. Although Spoffle held a wealth of contempt for him and made sure his cohorts perceived him with the utmost scorn.
“In truth, nor me, we treat each other as friends in the Taming Tree,” Edvin continued. “Which reminds me, Jambilee told me of your maiden flight and how you steered a finch through spokes of the waterwheel. That must have been some flying you did.”
“It was more a case of falling in the right place. And the finch did the flying, I was more a passenger.”
“Frog snot! A wild bird might hold the instinct to make a move like that, but a tamed bird would either panic or crash unless guided by an incredibly skilled rider. And I hear that you’re teaching the split-wing how to fly the tailor’s hummer.”
The soft planks below their feet bounced with each step, reminding Dylap how high up they were, the thin gaps between showing glimpses of the void and the forest canopy many spans below.
“Elaya,” he corrected a little too hastily. “She’s a fast leaner.”
He had been visiting her every evening, her skills improving as he reduced the need to link with the bird. And with each lesson she became more relaxed around him.
“Elaya? I didn’t even know she had a name,” Edvin said, smiling. “Nice leathers by the way.”