Dylap

by A. C. Salter

  “It is yours, I won’t hear otherwise. The chamber has been unused for such a long time that I was surprised it hadn’t begun to rot already and once the rot starts, we would need to have cut it out and seal the room for good.”

  The master stepped closer and dropped something heavy on the foot of the bed.

  “And I didn’t have much use for this. Keep it. It’s yours anyway.”

  Dylap stared at the fist-sized pouch, the worn leather creasing with the weight inside, leaning over to reveal the silver dust. He thought Sabesto would have sold it by now.

  “Is there anything else you need?” The master asked as he began to withdraw from the room. “Anything I can get you.”

  Dylap pulled his gaze away from the pouch of silver to regard Sabesto. This was the moment he was waiting for. The point where he could reveal the truth and explain what really happened when he was pushed from the tree. The attempted murder by Spoffle and the involvement of his cousin, Urlmince.

  “I could use a helper with my bird-soothing,” he said, pushing Spoffle from his thoughts. There was a more pressing matter on his mind. “Jambilee has been filling in the role so far and I am thankful to her, but she has her own work to do in the Taming Tree.”

  “Do you have anyone in mind?” the master asked.

  “Elaya,” Dylap replied.

  17

  A Royal Wedding

  Two more weeks had passed until Dylap was strong enough to leave his chamber. His first visit to the food hall was accompanied by greetings from the workers and staff in the Aviary. Most wishing him well and a speedy recovery. The baker, who was now back in the kitchens, had made a special cake and those that were present enjoyed a slice of the apricot and apple sponge. All except Spoffle and his cohorts who crept from the hall when he entered, but not before Spoffle treated them to a sneer, his face contorted in a pinched twist to include Elaya who sat beside him at the great table. Dylap treated the bully to a wink before turning his back on them and began to share out the cake.

  “It won’t be long before you’re back in the Taming Tree,” Jambilee said as she hunkered beside Ebbin, helping herself to a slice. “We’ve got a backlog of clients, all wanting their birds treated for something or other.”

  Dylap was about to suggest that he might be able to manage some of the easier tasks the following day but it was Elaya that answered for him.

  “Dylap needs his rest,” she said, absently wiping crumbs from the collar of his shirt. “Hopefully he’ll be able to come back in another week. I don’t want him exhausting himself before he is fully back to health.”

  “I’m fine,” Dylap argued, beginning to feel a little claustrophobic within the confines of his room, although he enjoyed having Elaya’s company and Ebbin when he found the time. But he would be glad to get back to work.

  “Of course,” Jambilee replied, rising from the table. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be heading back. I hear that Prince Rybal maybe arriving soon, he’s got an appointment with Edvin.”

  “Is there something wrong with his bird?” Dylap asked.

  Jambilee shook her head. “No, they’re just practising for the up-coming races. But the thought of the Prince in his tight riding leathers makes me feel all squishy inside.”

  They laughed as she left the hall, waving a farewell at the doorway.

  “Did they belong to Jabesto?” Ebbin asked, admiring the silk shirt and plush mouse skin trousers. “I still can’t believe he gave you them all. The room as well. Master Sabesto is a changed man, I even heard him whistling yesterday. A little out of tune, but it’s something he has never done before. That reminds me, you know what else has changed? The obelisk.”

  Dylap remembered how the strange tower of stone had glowed blue in the storm when he was snatched by the falcon. He had forgotten about that.

  “Changed how?” Dylap asked.

  “It was Merrybone that pointed it out to me. It makes a kind of crackling hissing sound, you know like if you pour cold water over a sun gem and it bubbles to steam. Only the obelisk gives off no heat. And another thing, the grass and shrubs around it have died, right down to the roots. Even the wisp avoids it now. Merrybone said that when he touched it, his teeth began to itch. Magic, apparently.”

  “That is strange,” Dylap remarked as he reached for another slice of cake and winced with the effort. His ribs still throbbed when he over-exerted himself and Elaya was always there to see it.

  “That’s enough for today,” she said, gently pulling him to his feet. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

  “I’m alright,” he said, feeling a tinge annoyed at being fussed, although he did as he was told and began the slow and arduous steps back to his chamber. “Are you coming?” he asked Ebbin, who seemed a little deflated.

  “No, I promised I would see my parents today. I’ll visit you tonight before I go to bed. Maybe filch you some bilburries.”

  “That would be great. See you then.”

  Easing his arm over Elaya’s shoulder, he tried to put as little weight on her as possible as he put one foot in front of the other, each step sending a wave of pain up his legs to his hips. The pain was becoming less by the day, his headaches only came if he attempted to stay awake and fight the tiredness which had yet to go.

  “There,” Elaya said when they finally arrived at his bed. She shuffled around and steadied him as he sat and pulled his legs up. “Do you want any water?” She asked, ever the dutiful nurse. She had been delighted when he had told her that Sabesto had given his permission for her to become his assistant.

  Dylap smiled as he eased his head back on the pillow, he would miss this when he was well.

  “No, thank you,” he said. “How did you find your new bed last night, comfortable?”

  The sun came through the open balcony and lit up her smile.

  “By far it is the comfiest bed that I’ve ever slept in.”

  Dylap had made arrangements with Sabesto. Now that he was taking more of an interest in the Aviary, he had found a room once used to house wine. Over the years, he had emptied it and any new bottles he ordered were taken directly to his office. He admitted to Dylap that he was in no mind to restock it and so they refurbished it as sleeping quarters. Now Elaya had a room almost as big as his own. Not that she slept in it much. If he awoke during the night, he would always find her curled up beside him or watching him from the acorn rocker.

  “What’s that?” she asked, hearing several birds approaching the Aviary and landing on the platform outside.

  Elaya crossed the room and went out onto the balcony. “It’s the King,” she said. “Along with his guard. Master Sabesto has gone out to greet them.” She slowly withdrew from the balcony and closed the shutters before returning to his side. “What do you think he wants?”

  “I don’t know. The King and Sabesto used to be friends, years ago before the war. Maybe now that the master is well, they’re arranging a hunt or something.”

  “Could be,” Elaya said, reaching to refill his glass of water and accidentally knocked the leather pouch from the table.

  It landed with a thump, silver dust spilling through the drawstring and spreading out on the polished floor.

  “Leave it,” Dylap said, as she hurriedly began to scrape it up, apologising for her clumsiness. “It will still be there when I wake. Besides,” he said, motioning toward the spillage with his hand, “It’s about time I started doing things for myself.”

  “Wait,” Elaya said, her eyes going wide. “Do that again.”

  “Do what?”

  “Wave your hand.”

  Dylap waved his hand towards the fallen pouch and saw a ripple flow over the spilled silver. He thought it was a trick of the light as the sun-ray came through the closed shutters, until he did it again. With each wave of his hand, the dust responded, like the crest of a wave, flowing one way and then the other.

  “How are you doing that?” Elaya asked as she waved her own hand over the dust with no reaction.


  “I don’t know,” Dylap replied, feeling drawn towards the silver in a way that he’d not felt before. “Pour some more on the floor.”

  Elaya picked up the pouch and emptied half of the contents onto the polished wood, the tiny grains making a pile.

  Using both hands, Dylap manipulated the dust. Folding the peak over and flattening the pile, then when he pinched his fingers above the dust, without making contact, another peak emerged and rose from the floor to follow his fingertips. He marvelled at the way it gathered, the silver grouping together to defy gravity and rise with him, making a column of dust a foot high from the floor. Elaya gasped as he used his other hand to attract the side of the column while bending it over, forming a snake-like arc. It kept intact, ignoring all laws of nature, the silver grains sparkling with an energy that didn’t only come from the daylight, but also from a faint blue hue that was similar to the light that engulfed the obelisk weeks before.

  “You were a wizard in your past life,” Elaya suggested, eyes going wide in wonder. “Or a spell-caster or binder.”

  Dylap dropped his hands by his side and the arc collapsed to the floor.

  “No, that doesn’t feel right. I’m not chanting or using any spells. It feels more natural,” he explained, although he felt immensely tired. Elaya noticed this too.

  “Wizard or no, you need to rest.” She eased him back on the bed. “Maybe some more of your memories will return to you in your sleep.”

  “Hopefully,” he said, his words coming out slurred as he fought sleep. He was desperate to play with this new ability he had found as the darkness drew him in, sinking him down into unconsciousness. Yet it wasn’t any memories unlocking his past that came to him, it was the same night terrors that had haunted dreams since the attempted murder.

  He dreamed about the falcon and about the fairies that had vanished. The recurring nightmares that had plagued him for weeks.

  “It’s Genili,” he heard Ebbin say, when he began to wake. “How was he able to capture her face so accurately? It’s incredible.”

  “What’s incredible,” he said, propping himself up on elbows. The light had faded from the room, revealing that he had been asleep for most of the day.

  Ebbin and Elaya were at the foot of the bed staring at the floor. When he crawled closer to see what it was that had their attention, he was shocked to see a face drawn in the silver. It was Genili, there was no mistaking it. The portrait of her was locked in a silent scream, terror captivating her expression as she stared at an invisible attacker. Then he remembered the dream he had been having. The recurring nightmare where he witnessed Genili being attacked by another, yet the details were not clear enough to define who. He pictured her body being placed in a beetle trap and carried away. The details evaporated the more he tried to pick through them, dissolving as he became more awake.

  “You were saying her name in your sleep,” Elaya said, staring down at the picture in the dust. “Then while I watched, the silver shifted by itself to reveal her face.”

  “Why do you think it was Dylap that moved the dust? You said yourself, that he was sleeping,” Ebbin asked.

  Elaya pointed at the picture on the floor. “Show him.”

  Only too willing to try altering the silver again, Dylap raised his hands and the grains changed shape. It grouped together to form a dune before flattening out and moulding into the shape of another face.

  “That’s me,” Ebbin said, gazing in awe. “But how?”

  “I don’t know,” Dylap replied, changing the pattern once again until the face that stared up from the floor was Elaya’s. “It’s as though the silver is linked with my mind and knows what it is I want it to do.”

  “It’s amazing. Do something else,” Ebbin insisted.

  Hearing the chattering birds outside, Dylap put his thumbs together, making wings from his hands and was as surprised as his friends to see a finch form in the dust. He moved his fingers in a flapping motion and the silver bird mimicked him, then when he guided his puppet bird high above his head, the finch jumped into the air and began to fly around the room. It circled the walls before swooping around Ebbin’s head, morphing into a swift and then a thrush.

  “You must be a warlock or something,” Ebbin said, reaching to touch the silver bird but didn’t have the speed to do so. “This power is amazing.”

  “It’s incredible,” Elaya agreed. “But why Genili? Why do you see her face in your dreams and why is she screaming?”

  Dylap’s watched the silver bird, the grains glowing a pale blue as it changed shape once again to become the falcon. It was so life-like that Ebbin gasped.

  He controlled the bird to land on the leather pouch, its head cocked to the side to regard them with its hunter’s glower.

  “I didn’t fall from the bridge,” Dylap admitted as he painfully reached for the glass of water. All the energy he’d used to create the birds from the dust had stolen all that he’d saved during his sleep. “I was pushed.”

  “What?” both Ebbin and Elaya said together.

  Dylap glanced at the door, not wanting what he was about to tell his friends to spread to the rest of the tree. “Spoffle tried to kill me. He tricked me into going to the rear of the Aviary where we were out of sight and shoved me from the ledge.” He felt Elaya take his hand, her warm fingers interlacing within his. “I fell almost the entire way down to the ground, but at the last moment, before I was dashed against the rocks, the falcon snatched me.”

  The small silver falcon perched on the pouch opened its hooked beak to scream, as if it was listening and wanted to add to the drama. Yet there was no sound, and Dylap knew that it was only silver dust, somehow picking up on his emotion, and unable to feel anything for itself.

  “It took me high into the sky, above the storm. Souring over the centre of the thundering clouds, but before it dropped me, I managed to make a link with him. I’m sure that my nightmares came from that connection.”

  “You mean that the disappearances in Farro are linked to the black monster? My father told me that theory has been going around the taverns for a while.” Ebbin asked as he poked his finger at the silver miniature of the bird. He hastily withdrew it as the falcon snapped at him.

  “I don’t think so,” Dylap admitted. “I think it only witnessed Genili’s vanishing, but had nothing to do with disappearance itself. I don’t know, maybe I ought to tell somebody. Master Sabesto at least.”

  “Maybe, but you must tell him about Spoffle,” Elaya said, squeezing his hand. “That is terrible.”

  “I’ve thought about that,” Dylap replied. “It would still be my word against his. And if I mention him I must tell him about Urlmince. I can’t see a good outcome from telling Sabesto anything.”

  “Then I will,” Ebbin said, rising to his feet.

  “No, don’t you see where it will lead? Urlmince will be wedding the Princess soon. He is untouchable. With an accusation like that landing at his feet what do you think he will do? Or more to the point, what do you think his father, the general will do? I’m better off keeping out of the way and hope things blow over.”

  “You’ve got a point,” Ebbin admitted, then slammed his fist against his palm. “But it’s open season on Spoffle. That fairy is going to get what is coming to him.”

  “Leave it, Ebbin. I’ll deal with him when the time comes,” Dylap said, grasping his friend’s arm. “And I haven’t told you what happened after the falcon dropped me.” He needed to prevent Ebbin from leaving and so told them of his fall through the storm.

  “It dropped you?” Elaya asked.

  Dylap nodded. “Right over the storm. I fell through the centre and was struck by lightning, several large bolts simultaneously striking me at once. I can’t remember much after that. Not until I awoke in here.”

  His friends remained quiet as they absorbed his words. Whether they believed him or not, he didn’t care. He could hardly believe it himself. Speaking it out loud made it seem more fantastical.


  The falcon, regarded them for a moment before it collapsed to dust, falling into the pouch it had been perched on. If he’d had the energy he would have summoned something else, something fun to lighten the mood, but the remnants of the nightmare still lingered on the edge of his thoughts. Genili was out there somewhere, along with the others that had vanished. The falcon was the key, and linking with the black monster was the only way to solve the problem.

  A knock on the door brought them out of the silence that had descended over the room. When the door creaked open, Sabesto was standing in the frame.

  “Dylap, I need to speak with you,” he said, stepping into the room, ducking below the mantle. His gaze fell on Ebbin and Elaya. “Alone.”

  He waited until the fairies had left before approaching Dylap’s bed, brows drawn up in concern as he settled into the acorn rocker.

  “I’ve had a visit from the King,” he said. “His brother, Prince Hindle, is to wed in three days. It’ll be quite a fanciful affair. He came to invite me in person. He must have heard that I had given up the drink and came to see the truth of it. I’m not one for all the pomp and ceremony, but he insisted that I be there.”

  “That’s great news, Sir,” Dylap said, not understanding the reason why Sabesto was telling him this.

  “The invitation is for another, and because you’re the one I have to thank for saving me from drowning myself in wine, I want you to come.”

  “I don’t know if I would be welcome, Sir,” Dylap admitted, visualising Urlmince’s face when he saw him.

  “Frog snot, the King said to bring anyone. You will be a guest and treated as such. The Prince has even invited the Queen of the split-wings. A way of attempting a truce between our peoples. I dare say she’ll soak up all the attention and take a deal of the gossip her way instead of yours. Besides, there’ll be a lot of wine and I’ll need you as my moral rock to keep my hands from straying too close to a glass.”

  Dylap couldn’t picture himself at the wedding amongst the high-class and royalty. He would be like a fish out of water, but then again, so would Sabesto. His master sat beside him, hope gleaming in his eye. If he refused, he knew that Sabesto would look for a reason not to go.