by A. C. Salter
Elaya glanced up at Dylap, her face a mask of horror. It made him feel ashamed as if this ordeal had been his fault - which in a way it was. If he hadn’t insisted that Elaya begin riding lessons, she would be safe back at the tailors, and wouldn’t have the worry of being moved onto a different mistress.
Laying a hand against the bird and soothing it, he smiled down at Elaya, hoping that she felt reassured.
“I will see you to safety,” he said, then led them into the trunk, the mouth swallowing them whole.
Darkness, it was all consuming. As if they had stumbled into the blackness of death itself. The sounds of endless spiders clicked around them. An orchestra of clacking mandibles and fangs that painted a nightmare in Dylap’s mind. The Blessed Mother only knew what was going on in Elaya’s.
From far away a subtle glow appeared. It was pale at first, hovering on the edges of his vision until it began to grow as it neared. Waddling from side to side, the phenomenon brightened until it revealed the back of an unusual arachnid with a luminous bulbous body.
“Close your eyes,” Dylap warned in a hushed tone. “Hold onto my arm and don’t let go.”
Elaya did as she was told, fear creasing her brow as Dylap stared on.
As the glowing spider came closer it revealed the chamber and the hundreds of spiders that coated the walls, floor and ceiling. The sight sickened Dylap. There wasn’t a space that wasn’t occupied by moving hairy limbs or shining black orbs and clicking mandibles. Each creature was at least as big as himself, some of the larger ones as tall as Merrybone.
“What’s happening?” Elaya asked above the panicked chirping of the hummer.
“Nothing, we’re quite safe, but trust me, don’t open your eyes.”
The luminous spider shuffled along the chamber to a tunnel and began to crawl down it, only pausing long enough to check if they were following.
Taking a deep breath, Dylap took a step forward, and then another, pulling the bird and Elaya with him.
The tunnel was narrow, made even narrower by the creatures that clung to its walls, when they exited the chamber the spiders followed, moving rapidly to fill the gaps.
Biting his lip, Dylap forced himself to remain calm. If he panicked it may cause the hummer to panic, and then he doubted that Dewella’s magic that held the creatures at bay would be strong enough to keep them alive.
As they shuffled along, he stole glimpses of the tunnel floor beneath the moving arachnids, revealing the original alabaster. At one time, it had been intricately carved, depicting snatches of pictures and mosaic patterns and swirls. It would have been beautiful in its day, but now lay thick with a thousand year’s worth of grime and decay, rotting down amongst the muck that was dragged in on the thousands of legs. He wished he could have seen the palace back then, when royalty had walked along these very corridors, climbing the delicately carved steps, although as the tree now lay on the ground and they were walking on the walls with the original floor of the ruins cascading along one side.
The tunnel rounded a bend and came to a fork. Two further tunnels leading away, one going up into a grey light while the other appeared to go down into blackness. The spider tapped a leg along the wall of the former.
“This way will lead you to the surface. From there, it’s only a small flight to the safety of Farro,” Dewella’s soft tones explained. “The other tunnel will lead you to answers.”
“What answers?” Dylap asked, feeling eager to be away from the place.
“Follow the path down into the belly of the old palace and you will learn who you are. It holds secrets that have been locked away gathering dust for far too long.”
Dylap stared into the darkness, even taking a step towards it. He was desperate to learn who he is, even what he is, but doubt still lurked in his forgetful mind.
“What’s down there?”
“The truth, but heed this warning. Discovering your true identity will bring Farro to its knees and I doubt it will recover.”
“Dylap?” Elaya said, tugging him back to reality.
He tightened his grip around her shoulder and led her to the ascending tunnel, guiding her clear of the strange spider that glowed beside her.
“I was washed up by the Twine,” Dylap said. “My identity will reveal itself when my memories return. Whoever I am, I’m not the special fairy that you believe me to be.”
Fresh air washed over them as they emerged on the other side of the root system, the moon glinting periodically through the forest canopy to reveal that they were only a few spans from where they entered, but mercifully, the black monster had gone.
“Can I open my eyes yet?” Elaya asked.
“No,” Dylap replied as he pulled the bird free of the tunnel and guided Elaya onto his back.
There was as many spiders covering the roots and partially sunken trunk as there were below, although the glowing arachnid remained within the darkness of the tunnel.
“Should you ever change your mind, special one. The invitation will still be there,” another spider said, using the same alluring tones of Dewella. “Your memory may return to you someday, but I have my doubts. It maybe that you will only have the tiny visions it chooses to relay to you on a whim.”
Dylap recalled the vision about the obelisk and was about to ask if she knew anything about it, but decided that he needed to take Elaya to safety. He still lacked any trust towards the Lady of the Web.
“Thank you,” he offered to the spider. “For saving our lives. But we must return.”
The spider inclined its head and began to back into the tunnel, its many eyes lingering on them until it vanished.
Without delaying, Dylap climbed onto the saddle behind Elaya and put his hands to the bird’s side and linked with its mind.
Its wings hummed as it leapt from the ruins and flew in a direct line across the clearing to the protection of Farro. Worriedly, Dylap scanned the area, but saw no sign of the black monster. Maybe, Dewella had been right. It left when it thought its prey had disappeared.
“You can open your eyes,” he informed Elaya. She had been leaning against his body and he was enjoying the warmth of her contact.
“That was terrifying,” she admitted, taking the reins once again and leaning into the flight. “What was inside the tunnel?”
“Nothing much,” he lied, not wanting to provide fodder for any nightmares she may get. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”
“Sorry? It wasn’t your fault. Even knowing how this week would end, I would do it all over again.”
“Really?” Dylap asked, thinking that she would put as much distance between them as possible. “Even the spiders?”
“Even the spiders.”
Dylap reached his arms around her waist and put his hands atop hers.
“I don’t need guidance,” she said. “I can fly us back.”
“I know,” Dylap replied, leaving his hands where they were, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath. After a moment, when he was sure she would ask him to remove them, she interlaced her fingers between his.
The flight to the tailors was over too quickly. Dylap could have stayed holding Elaya’s hands all night. But like all things he enjoyed, it came to a swift end. The Tangilups were waiting beside an anxious looking Ebbin, Noggin bouncing on the spot when he saw them.
“Where, may I ask, have you been?” Mrs Tangilup asked, her beady eyes roving over the state of Elaya’s clothes which were covered in patches of soil and dusty spider web. Mr Tangilup held a gem lamp higher to reveal a long tear in her coat. His wife glowered at Dylap. “And Sir or not, you have no right to…”
“We were attacked by the black monster,” Elaya cut her off mid-rebuke. “It was only by the brave actions of Master Dylap that we survived.”
“You were attacked again?” Ebbin exclaimed, arms flying as wide as his wings. “That’s twice in the same moon. Incredible, I think that falcon has gotten a taste for you, Dylap.”
With this fresh news, the Tangi
lup’s attention went to their bird. The hummer appearing to have forgotten the entire ordeal and now quietly preened itself.
“He’s unhurt,” Dylap reassured them. “And what’s more, he is healthy enough for you to begin riding him again. So I will no longer require the help of your servant.” He wanted to say Elaya, to call her by her proper name, but he didn’t want to bring her the shame he knew she would feel.
With the prospect of flying their precious hummer once again, the mood of the tailors changed.
“Thank you, Sir,” Mr Tangilup said, grasping his hand and shaking it enthusiastically. “I will take him for a flight as dawn breaks the sky.”
Dylap extracted his hand, wanting to say a proper farewell to Elaya but she had already slipped inside the shop while the tailors were distracted.
“That would be good, and mind you feed him only worms and berries,” Dylap replied before departing.
“Do you think they’ll still get rid of her?” Ebbin asked as they began their journey home, Noggin leaping from branch to tree and darting along twisting boughs.
“I hope not, but don’t know. Nobody keeps her for long.”
Feeling drained of energy from the ordeal with the monster and not wanting to talk about Elaya’s plight with the Tangilups, Dylap asked, “Hungry?”
“Aren’t I always?”
“Bilburries,” They said together and laughed.
13
Beating
Edvin circled the Taming Tree, his swift banking at such a tight angle that its wings were spread vertically, V-shaped tail feathers catching the wind and making a whistling sound. Dylap leaned against the trunk as he watched, smiling as the bird racer waved before steering the swift into a sharp climb, making a loop and then diving below the platform and out of sight. Other fairies had paused what they were doing to marvel at the aerobatics Edvin was performing. Even the master was standing out on his balcony, meaty arms resting upon the balustrade.
“He’s going to win this year’s tournament for sure,” Jambilee said as she came to join him, raising her goggles to wipe at the sweat beneath. “Last year’s event was a close call. His swift’s leg caught on a falling maple leaf which spun them clear of the path and he was disqualified from a race.”
“Who won?” Dylap asked.
“The Prince,” Ebbin replied. “On points, but if you ask me, Edvin allowed him the win. If he’s leading the board too far, he will hang back so as not to embarrass his royal friend. He just didn’t count on being disqualified.”
“Prince Rybal is as good a rider as Edvin,” Jambilee protested, her cheeks flushing red. “And his swift had picked up an injury in the final race.”
“It was a bruise, nothing more,” Ebbin replied.
“It was more than a bruise; its leg was bandaged from foot to knee joint.”
Dylap listened to the pair bicker who was the better rider, thankful to have a moment’s distraction from his own thoughts that always drifted towards Elaya. It had been over a week since the episode with the black monster and the spiders. Her time with the Tangilups had come to an end just like she had been expecting, and now she spent her days polishing sun gems and laying them out to soak up the day’s rays, ready for the following night. He had learned this from Ebbin, who had been told the news by his mother who worked as a washer woman. She had heard this from a gossiping maid whose husband was a gem collector.
“If Edvin wanted to win, he would have. Besides, that maple leaf was purposefully dropped by fans loyal to the Prince.”
“That was never proven and Prince Rybal was the instigator of the investigation.”
“Investigation?” Dylan asked. “The races are taken quite seriously then?”
Both Ebbin and Jambilee turned stern faces his way as if he had said something significantly stupid.
“The tournament is hugely important. It’s the only event in Farro’s calendar that brings all the fairies together, regardless of class,” Ebbin informed him.
“Even the city guard are permitted to select a soldier to race. Captain Beckto usually, but rarely does he make the scoreboard,” Jambilee said.
“Oh, and Urlmince Cramaris, the general’s son, he rides well enough to finish third or fourth most races.”
Jambilee shook her head. “That one is a bully though. He uses his cane on other birds and their riders. If anybody should be disqualified, it should be him.”
“Yeah,” Ebbin agreed. “I can’t believe he’s going to be marrying the Princess next summer solstice.”
“It’s arranged, what can she do? And you must admit, Urlmince has almost as pure a wing as the royals,” Jambilee added.
“Enough,” Ebbin said as he rose to his feet. “All this talk about racing is making me hungry. I’m going to visit the food hall, it’s nearly lunchtime anyway. Are you coming?” he asked Dylap.
“I’ll catch you up, first I need to sweep up the callus shavings.”
He watched his friend fly off towards the Master House, joining the other fairies who had set their tools down for lunch. Jambilee flew to her own quarters in the Taming Tree, leaving him alone.
While he worked, his mind wandered back to a plan he was formulating to visit Elaya. Somehow, he would need a reason to visit the gem polishers. They didn’t use birds, so he would need to think of another reason.
He tightened the grip on the brush he was holding and began to sweep the slats in the platform. An earlier patient, a kestrel from the city guard, had come to see him with a build-up of calluses down its neck. Its rider, a short stocky guardsman, had explained that after catching elm mite, the kestrel had rubbed its neck repeatedly for several weeks which had resulted in the build-up of the thick skin. The treatment was simple but harsh. Dylap had needed to soothe the bird into sleep while Jambilee had used a paring knife to scrape away the calluses. The bird was then handed into their care until the soreness passed and the kestrel was once again fit for duty.
He brushed the scrapings off the edge and turned to replace the brush in the tool shed when a white humming bird landed before him.
It was a fine animal. Its plumage was so bright and well-groomed that it shone in the midday sun. A highly polished saddle with gold guilting was strapped to its back, and the reins themselves were decorated in gold leaf.
Dylap approached it, gently laying a hand alongside its head while searching the skies for the rider.
“Where did you come from?” he asked, stroking the fine feathers.
The wind caught the top of the tall red and when it swayed it revealed a fairy, her wings beating the air rapidly as she landed beside him.
“Stupid beast,” she snapped, pointing her riding crop at the hummer and causing the bird to cower beneath the threat.
“Easy,” Dylap said, linking with the hummer’s mind to calm it.
“Easy?” the newcomer said in a tightly clipped voice while placing her hands on her hips. “It’s the second time this morning that its thrown me off.”
From the way she spoke and the rich silk clothes she wore, Dylap knew she was highborn. Most probably spoiled and treated the bird like a toy instead of a living creature. She was certainly highly strung, although her beauty was on a par with Elaya’s.
“Perhaps, my Lady, if you were to use your cane a little less often, your hummer would be less inclined to throw you.”
“Are you addressing me?” she asked, her cane swinging around to point at his nose. “How dare you, I’ll have your name.”
Her beauty melted into a scowl as her pure wings flicked out, her glower settling on his spines before narrowing to slits.
“The Dylap?” she scoffed. “How amusing, I heard you were sent to the Taming Tree.”
“Dylap,” he corrected, a scowl forming on his own brow, until he noticed her wings. They were bright white and as pure as Prince Rybol’s. Then he realised his error.
“Princess Terina?” a worried voice echoed from above.
When he glanced up, Dylap saw three other ri
ders rapidly flying in. They landed on the platform and came to join them, all wearing the finest silks and leathers.
“Whatever happened Princess?” asked the first, the larger of the three fae. Dylap recognised him to be Urlmince Cramaris. He strode forwards, large chest strutting out as he took her hand.
“Did the blasted animal throw you again?”
“It did Urlmince. There is something wrong with it. I knew it wasn’t right for me the moment my father bought it.”
“Don’t you worry yourself. I’ll have it turned over to the guard for bow practice.”
The Princess’s stern features faltered as she took in his words. “Maybe it needs to be re-tamed,” she suggested.
“Oh, sweet buttercup, you are so fair, but alas, this creature is not fit for you. I’ll have it taken over to the guards at once. You may ride my bird back to the Palace.”
Dylap cleared his throat. “Forgive me, Princess, but I believe I can retrain…”
The slap took him by surprise.
Heat flamed his jaw as he stumbled backwards towards the edge where only moments ago he had brushed the shavings off.
“How dare you address the Princess,” Urlmince blasted, rubbing the back of the hand which had dealt him the blow. The two fairies that had accompanied him drew to either side, each glaring down with menace.
“That’s the second time it’s addressed me,” The Princess informed him. “The first was to suggest how I use my cane.”
Dylap tasted blood in his mouth, the slap stinging as he dropped to one knee, his head bowed low.
“Forgive me, P…”
The world spun as Urlmince put a foot against his shoulder and kicked him onto his back.
“The wretched fool will never learn. My cousin Spoffle told me of his incredible impertinence. Perhaps a lesson is in order. Sabesto’s always too deep in his cups to care about any discipline around the Aviary. If I may,” Urlmince, said as he took the Princess’s riding crop and turned to Dylap.
“I’ll show you the correct way to use the cane,” he said, raising his arm; a demonic expression of delight forcing dimples in his cheeks.