by A. C. Salter
He had been experiencing a night terror. One where he was in a huge cottage that belonged to one of the giant creatures, a goblin, he thought. He was trapped in a giant glass jar and the menacing goblin began to screw the lid shut. It came to him more as a memory than a dream, one where everything was real; the fear, the vulnerability the lack of air as it began to diminish leaving nothing for his lungs. The goblin placing him high up on a shelf, leaving him to gather dust while the falcon screamed from outside the hovel.
“Master, he is awake,” Ebbin said, his words coming out more excitedly.
“Thank the Blessed Mother,” Sabesto said, from the other side of his bed.
The room began to come into focus, the dull light and shapes suddenly brightening and he could see.
“Wat…water,” he stammered, his throat burning in agony.
The master leaned down, a glass in one hand while tenderly lifting his head with the other.
Dylap put his lips to the rim of the vessel, the cool liquid entering his mouth and easing the pain on his tongue.
“Easy now, take only small sips,” the master said, holding him carefully until Dylap had taken what he wanted.
“Thank you,” Dylap said as Sabesto eased him back onto the pillow.
He looked at his master. The huge fairy seemed a bedraggled mess. Hair stuck out at all angles and falling loose to his overgrown beard. His dark eyes seemed even darker as if he hadn’t slept in days and his clothes appeared dishevelled and a long tear ran up the sleeve of his shirt.
“Can you move?” he asked anxiously.
Feeling a fresh wave of pain run the entire length of his body, from hair to toes, Dylap raised his legs, his knees making a tent from the sheet. He shook with the effort and his legs collapsed back to the mattress.
“Good, you didn’t break your back. I’ll fetch the healers,” Master Sabesto said. “I’ll be back soon though, we need to discuss what happened.” He then rose to his feet, gave Ebbin a curt nod and marched from the room.
“Where am I?” Dylap asked, his jaw and head throbbing with each word. He didn’t recognise the room and could only vaguely remember being carried here.
It was wide and circular with one door to enter and a large balcony, much like in Sabesto’s office, to the other side. Its large shutters were closed, yet a sharp sun-ray cut through the gap between. There were shelves and a wardrobe and a table that sat beside the hearth with a gem stone glowing from within.
Ebbin came closer, dragging an acorn rocker beside the lavish bed he was laying in.
“It’s Jabesto’s chamber,” Ebbin explained. “The master brought you straight in, crashing through the door that hadn’t been opened for years. He held you in his arms until the room was cleaned and fresh linen was put on the bed. He’s been by your side ever since. That was over three weeks ago.”
“Three weeks,” Dylap repeated, the shock of realising that he had been unconscious for so long scared him. “And Master Sabesto had been with me the whole time?”
“Yeah, he felt guilty for sending us out to fetch his wine. He blames himself for you falling from the Aviary. What happened, were you blown from the bridge like Spoffle told everyone?”
The recollection of that night came back to him. Spoffle holding him over the ledge at the rear of the tree, the void spreading endlessly below and those whispered words - my cousin told me to make it quick, make it seem like an accident…after all, if you live in a tree and can’t fly you will inevitably…fall.
He was about to tell Ebbin what happened when the door swung open and the healer came in. Dylap recognised him from his time spent in the Healing Tree when he had woken from the Twine. Meldue, he remembered; no nonsense, efficient, but friendlier than his colleague who gave evidence at his trial.
“Leave him be,” the healer demanded, motioning his arm for Ebbin to go.
“I want him to stay,” Dylap said, attempting to shift into a sitting position, but a giddiness came over him and his head slumped back.
“Go, go, go,” Meldue ordered, ushering his friend out. “And bring me fresh water.” His hand lifted Dylap’s cover to reveal the bed sheet beneath. “And fresh linen, he’s scorched this one.”
“Scorched?”
Meldue ignored him as he placed a hand against his forehead, and then pressed a finger onto his cheek bone and pulled the skin down. “Look up,” he said, leaning closer. “Good.” Then moving to his arm, he raised it, flexed the elbow and pinched the web of skin between thumb and forefinger. “Can you feel that?”
“Ouch, yes, but…”
“Good,” Meldue said as he carried on his investigation. “And this?”
Dylap flinched when the healer dug a knuckle into his ribs and then worked down his torso and then onto his legs to his feet, tapping every so often.
“Yes, I can feel it all,” Dylap said, feeling irritated at not being heard. “But what do you mean, scorched sheets? It sounds like it’s not the first time this has happened.”
“It’s your spines,” Meldue explained. “They’re blackening the sheets.”
The door opened again and Ebbin returned with a jug of water and a maid carrying white linen. Master Sabesto hovered by the door, ducking so he could watch was happening but didn’t enter.
“Well, it appears, young Dylap, that miraculously you survived a rather large fall. I can’t find anything broken and you’ve the full feeling of your body,” the healer said as he rose and stepped away from the bed. “It’s only strength you’re lacking, but a few days rest with warm food and plenty of fluids should bring you back to full heath.” His eyes lingered on the raised bed sheet. “Well, as healthy as you can be without wings I suppose.”
Dylap watched him leave, closing the door as he began to converse with Sabesto.
Ebbin set the water on the table and glared at the maid who simply stood there, frowning at the bed and clutching at the linen.
“Leave the sheets and I’ll change them,” Ebbin said, taking the folded bundle from the maid. She looked relieved as she thanked Ebbin before hurriedly leaving the room.
Ebbin shook his head as he dropped them on the end of the bed and sat down.
“Some fairies still fear you,” he said. “Even more so after surviving a night out in the storm. Not to mention the fall. But you’ve had plenty of visitors, some of the fae whose birds you’ve soothed and even Merrybone was permitted in. Jambilee and Edvin come by every day and more than a few spiders have been chased away from the balcony.”
Dylap smiled. He didn’t realise how many friends he had.
“And what of Elaya, have you seen her?”
“Elaya no longer works for the gem collector,” Ebbin said.
Dylap felt his heart sag. “So where is she now, is she still in Farro?” He knew that she didn’t stay in the same place for long, but having worked in most trees in the city, there weren’t many places left. He was eager to find out, but dreaded the next words and would have to wait a little longer to hear the news as the door opened and another fairy stepped inside. It took him a moment to recognise her.
“Elaya?”
Her smile made the room brighter.
“They said you were awake, but I needed to see it for myself,” she said, closing the door behind her and approaching the bed.
“Sabesto allowed you to enter the Aviary?” Dylap asked.
“It was Sabesto that sent for me. Apparently, you were talking in your delirium. You were saying my name over and over again so in the end Master Sabesto brought me here to take care of you. The storm has devastated some parts of Farro and there were many casualties so the healers were only too pleased to have me here so they may return to the Healing Tree.”
Dylap looked at Ebbin, his grin widening as he nodded in confirmation. “It’s true. She came three days after we found you. Feeding you soup, mopping your brow, changing sheets and…bathing you.”
Dylap’s cheeks flushed.
“You’ve seen me naked?”
Elaya’s face also reddened, much to Ebbin’s amusement.
“Don’t worry, Dylap. She was professional, and Master Sabesto and I were also here.”
“Thank you,” Dylap said, trying hard not to think of how he must have looked. “I must have been quite a burden.”
Elaya’s smile returned and she tried her best to hide it beneath her hair as she leaned over the bed to retrieve the fresh linen. “Do you think you are strong enough to climb out for a moment?”
With Ebbin’s help, he pulled the covers back. Mercifully he was dressed in a simple cotton shift. Slowly, he slid one leg and then the other over the edge of the bed and felt the polished floor upon his bare feet. Shuffling clumsily to the rocker, Ebbin taking most of his weight on his shoulder, the giddiness returned and he was thankful when he collapsed into the rounded chair.
Elaya watched him, worry making her bite her lower lip. Once she was satisfied he was not going to slip unconscious she removed his covers and Dylap’s gaze fell to the bed sheet.
Longs black lines were scorched from the centre out. The shape and size of his spines.
“I did that?”
Elaya nodded as she folded it up and placed it on the floor and began to make the bed with the fresh sheet. “It seems to coincide with the dreams you were having, the nightmares anyway.”
“Just a thought,” Ebbin said, “but have any of your other memories returned? You know, from before you were pulled from the Twine.”
“I think some things did, yet I’ll need time to ponder on them, pick out the dreams and what was real. But I still don’t know who I am if that’s what you’re asking.”
Elaya finished making the bed, tucking the edges in neatly before pulling the corner of the cover back.
“You need to get back in,” she said. “It’s rest that you need.”
“I’d like to sit here for a while longer,” he replied, watching Elaya as she approached.
“Dylap I must insist,” she argued, taking his arm and kneeling on the rocker so it rolled him to his feet. Once up, she put his arm over her shoulder and walked him to the bed. Dylap looked to Ebbin for help, but his friend only shrugged.
“She’s in charge and that’s the master’s orders.”
After Elaya had puffed up his pillows, he lay back down and felt his weariness return. As hard as he tried he couldn’t keep his lids from closing. The last sensation he felt was a warm hand taking his.
He drifted in and out of sleep for the next few days. Thirst and hunger waking him, tiredness dragging him back. There was always somebody there when he woke. Sometimes Ebbin or Jambilee and at one-point Edvin who refilled his glass of water, but Elaya was a constant. Every time his eyes fluttered open, it was she who he first saw. Even when he was roused in the dark of night, Genili’s terror-stricken face screaming on the edges of his nightmare, it was Elaya who had soothed him, wiping the sweat that clung to his brow and talked to him until sleep claimed him once again. Through the care, he grew steadily stronger, becoming able to take steps unaided around the room. He began to feed himself soup with sweet tasting meat.
“What will happen when I’m recovered?” he asked Elaya on the fifth night. They were alone in his chamber, Ebbin having gone to his quarters and the rest of the tree was asleep.
“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” Elaya said, but Dylap could see through the lie. She was worried, he could sense it.
Taking her hand in his, he patted the space beside him. Slowly she rose from the rocker and shuffled onto the bed.
“Will the gem collector take you back?” Under the dimming gem of the lantern he watched her shake her head.
“Ebbin went there a few days after I came, to ask that exact question. The collector said that I had a gift for fixing and repairing nets, but unless I left the Aviary and returned immediately, he would need to hire somebody else.”
“And so, you decided to stay with me. Now you’re making me feel guilty.”
“Sorry.”
Dylap put his arm over her shoulder and pulled her close. She leaned into him, her cheek pressed up against his chest, her transparent wings gently fluttering. “I’ll have a word with Sabesto. I know the baker needs a new apprentice after Genili went missing.”
“Ebbin has already asked. The baker is convinced she’ll return. I must admit, I hope so too. I don’t think I could take another’s job like that. It would seem wrong. The baker was kind enough to offer me her sleeping quarters, but…”
“It feels wrong,” Dylap finished. “So where have you been sleeping?”
“In the rocker, it’s really quite comfortable. Now, you should be sleeping.”
He didn’t need reminding. As his eyes closed, he smelled Elaya’s hair, it had a scent of lemon as if she’d added the essence when she washed. His mind wandered over how to get her out of her predicament. There must be something he could do. But as sleep dragged him from his thoughts, he sunk into the darkness.
“Dylap,” a deep voice said, calling him from sleep and back into the chamber.
He opened his eyes to find Master Sabesto standing at the door and Elaya lying beside him on the bed. Her arm was draped over his stomach, head gently rising and falling upon his chest.
“Elaya wake up,” he said, nudging her softly.
She came to, blinking the grit from her eyes. When her gaze fell onto the fairy stood in the doorway, she jumped from the bed, apologising as she brushed the creases from her clothes.
If the master cared about finding them sleeping together, he didn’t show it. He dismissively waved his hand as he stepped into the room.
“May I have a private word with you,” he asked, smiling apologetically at Elaya.
“Yes, Master,” Dylap replied, offering Elaya a sad smile as she skipped across the room and closed the door.
Once the door was shut, Sabesto began to pace around the room, hands behind his back as if there was something he wished to say, but was unable to put it into words. Dylap also noticed a difference in him. His hair was combed, beard trimmed short and squared and he appeared fresher. The clothes he wore were pressed and tidy, unlike the man he was used to.
Sensing he was struggling to begin the conversation, Dylap began to speak.
“Thank you, Master. For what you have done. I feel…better.”
“Frog snot, Dylap, it is I who should be thanking you. It is you that has saved me. Saved me from myself,” Sabesto said, as he paced back and forth, gaze set on the floor. “I should never have sent you and Ebbin out into that storm.”
“I intended to go out in it,” Dylap began until Sabesto held up a finger to silence him. “I wanted to see my friend, Elaya and…”
“Drink has ruled my life for far too long.” Sabesto continued, rubbing fingers through his hair. “I don’t think there has been a day where I’ve been sober for more than a few moments. I would wake with a bottle and only find sleep in a bottle. In truth, I was killing myself.”
Dylap watched his master, his twitch catching the corner of his mouth as he fought the emotions that he had suppressed for years.
“My wife died giving birth to my son. If it wasn’t for Jabesto, I dare say I would have taken to the drink long before I did. He saved me and I suppose the Aviary too, from sinking into a slow death.” His fingers clenched, nearly tearing his hair out until he relaxed them. “He was a great son. An excellent flyer and he had a way with the birds. Not a soother, but a nurturing softness, something which I lacked. More like his mother in that regard.”
Sabesto choked on his last word, eyes filling with water as emotion he had kept buried for so long began to surface.
“This was his room. I carved the eagles on the door myself. Watched him grow from a tiny baby into the man he almost was. But the war with the split-wings ended all that.”
“I know, Master. Please,” Dylap said, attempting to spare Sabesto the words that were choking him up. But he held up his hand as he inhaled deeply and found control once again.
Dylap’s veins flooded with heat at the mention of Spoffle’s name, yet he didn’t interrupt his master. There would be time to tell the truth.
“I vowed not to touch another glass or bottle until you were found. The desperateness it bore me, driving me from the house into the storm. Yet when it was clear that you had succumbed to death, I made another vow that I wouldn’t drink until your body was recovered. And then when Ebbin returned with you on the beetle cart, I made a third vow. I would stay my hand from drink until you had recovered.”
“I’m still not fully recovered Master.”
“Believe me Dylap, if I hadn’t already made a fourth vow, I would have considered your eyes opening as the sign to take to the bottle once again. But the days in which I was sober gave me the chance to grieve properly for my son, something which I had forbidden myself for such a long time.”
“And the fourth vow?” Dylap asked.
“That I will never drink again,” Sabesto replied, smiling as if the words shocked him to speak them out loud. He regarded Dylap with an open face. “So you see, you saved my life, saved me from myself.”
The huge fairy crossed the room, opened the shutters and let the daylight spill into the chamber, lighting up the tears that had tracked down his cheeks. But it appeared that the master didn’t care that Dylap was witness to his feelings.
“I didn’t know that you had nowhere to sleep other than the nook. If I hadn’t been inebriated, I would have cared enough to find somewhere,” he said shaking his head disapprovingly at himself. “This room and everything in it is now yours. There’s clothes in the wardrobe. Jabesto was about your size, so they’ll fit.”
“But, Master,” Dylap began, believing that it was too much, that there must be somebody else more deserving.