Daphne and the Silver Ash: A Fairy Tale

by Joseph Robert Lewis

  Chapter 3

  Running on Rooftops

  Daphne wanted to say, no, that’s impossible. She wanted to shake her head and laugh and hear Bryn say it was all just a joke, just a dream. But it was neither of those things. Her golden skin was real. The soft red feathers draped around her shoulders were real. And she didn’t know what to say.

  I am the phoenix?

  But the phoenix was a bird, a magical creature that lived just out of sight at the top of the Silver Ash and only appeared once every hundred years to lie down in her burning nest and rise up young and new again to restore the city of Trevell. That wasn’t Daphne. Daphne was a just a person who lived in a house with her Justin and her Violet, and made shoes and boots in her spare hours. Even now, even with golden skin and red feathers for hair, she was still a woman.

  Aren’t I?

  Daphne swallowed and blinked. Whatever can be done can also be undone. “Bryn, how do we fix it? How do we put it back the way it was?”

  The nymph shivered and shook her head as she backed up against the smooth trunk of the Silver Ash. “I don’t know.”

  Daphne turned for the first time to look at the crowd, to look into the sea of faces and wide staring eyes of the people of Trevell. She searched their blank expressions for some sign, some hint of what she should do, but they had no answers for her. Not even a word of sympathy. Only silence, frightened and confused, waiting in heart-aching anticipation for her to make it right, for her to put it back the way it was meant to be so that the phoenix, the real phoenix, could be reborn and their home could be restored.

  Justin. If only he was here. If only he had been here. He could have stopped Serafina. He could have pulled me away. He could have kept me at home. Daphne shook her head. No. I came here, and I played my part. I can see this though. I can fix this.

  Without realizing it, she reached up again to touch her hair and discovered the soft crimson feathers yet again. She stared down at one long plume caught between her golden fingers. “It’s so beautiful.”

  “Yes. We are beautiful,” a voice said. It was a woman’s voice, a deep and thoughtful voice that spoke slowly and surely. It came from nowhere and everywhere, and it thundered even as it whispered.

  The crowd gasped and a faint murmur ran through them. “Serafina is alive! She’s alive! The phoenix lives inside her!”

  Daphne blinked. “Serafina? What have you done?”

  “I have given my spirit to you instead of to the fire,” the phoenix said, her voice echoing softly across the square. “The Silver Ash is dying, but you are not. You are young and strong. And now I need not fear my death ever again. For when you grow old and weary, I will pass on to another, and another, and so never again face the fire of rebirth. I will live forever.”

  “But what of the tree?” a man shouted from the crowd.

  “What of the city?” another yelled.

  “The city of Trevell will thrive and wither with the Silver Ash, as it always has,” Serafina said. “Without our fiery rebirth, the tree will falter and fade, perhaps even to die. When that happens, I cannot say what the fate of the city will be. But I care not. For whether the city lives or dies, I shall survive, on and on forever.”

  Daphne stared at the horrified and angry expressions of the men and women in the crowd. Like them, she despaired at the thought of her beloved home withering away and crumbling to dust, forcing them all out into the world to find new places to live. But beyond that, she felt a creeping guilt, the guilt that maybe she had caused this, that she had tempted the phoenix down with her singing, that she had willed the creature to pass her spirit to herself instead of the fire, that she had wanted this to happen. That she was to blame.

  “I’m so sorry,” Daphne said to them. “I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to.”

  Now the murmurs in the crowd turned to darker rumblings, to angry glares and sneers. Daphne looked from one side to the other, searching now for a friendly face, for someone, anyone, who would stand beside her.

  Where is Justin?

  But she knew where he was.

  At home with Violet, waiting for me to come home to him. He doesn’t know. Not yet.

  As she stood peering into the gloom of the crowd, a rotten apple flew out of the darkness and struck her arm. The brown fruit burst apart, leaving a slimy wet blotch on her sleeve running down to her golden hand. Daphne rubbed her arm as she stumbled back from the crowd toward the Silver Ash in the center of the park.

  “Why do you do this?” Serafina asked.

  “You’re supposed to die!” a woman cried out. “You need to, for all of us!”

  An old shoe flew out of the crowd and landed near Daphne’s foot. Then another apple flew by her leg. And then a small stone flew over her head.

  “No, no!” the phoenix cried. “What are they doing?”

  Daphne heard how very small and close the phoenix suddenly sounded, no longer booming out over the entire square but instead almost whispering in her ear. She said, “They’re afraid. Of course they’re afraid. You just told them their city is going to die, that they’re going to be cast out into the wilderness. They came here tonight to see a miracle, and instead you’ve prophesied a nightmare.”

  “It’s my life! I don’t want to die. Don’t they care about my life?” Serafina asked.

  “Not more than their own lives, or their families, or their futures.”

  “Not even after all I’ve done for them already?”

  Daphne looked over the crowd again. “No one here was alive the last time you were reborn. It’s not real to them. It’s just a story they heard from their parents and grandparents. Many of them have never even seen you before tonight. For some people, you were little more than a myth until just a few moments ago.”

  Another rock flew past Daphne’s head and she had to duck to avoid being hit.

  “But they could hurt us! Kill us!”

  Daphne nodded. “I think that’s the idea. They know you’re supposed to die and be reborn to save the city. And if you won’t do it on your own, then it looks like they’re ready to help you.”

  The spirit of phoenix shuddered and quailed in the young woman’s heart. “What if they bring swords or muskets? I might die with you before I can pass to another!”

  Daphne glanced down at one of the rocks by her foot. “It would take far less than a musket shot to kill us. I probably wouldn’t even see it coming.” She swallowed the fear in her belly. The golden skin, the ruby feathers, the voice of the phoenix, and the anger of the crowd. It was all too much to believe, too much to think about at once. It had all happened so fast that it still didn’t seem real.

  It’s a dream. I’m dreaming. In a moment I’ll wake up and everything will be all right.

  “No, no!” Serafina’s spirit fluttered like a caged bird, frantic and wild. “Run, run!”

  Daphne felt the creature’s panic washing over her like a cold rain and suddenly she too was shaking, terrified of the specter of death, terrified of the sea of faces in the crowd, terrified of the next rock that might come hurling out of the darkness.

  She ran.

  The golden woman dashed across the park with her ruby feathers flying out behind her on the wind and she plunged into the crowd. The startled people stumbled back, parting to let her pass, their anger momentarily forgotten. Daphne ran through them, her bare feet slapping lightly on the broken cobblestones, the cold night air whipping over her skin. She saw face after face staring at her as she ran, and suddenly the crowd was gone and the lamps were gone and the park was gone and she was alone, running down one dark street after another. She slowed to a stop in the middle of an intersection to stare up at the gathering storm clouds.

  “What am I doing?” She looked down again at her golden hands. “What do I do?”

  A great rumble of thunder rolled across the sky, and when it faded into the distance another sound took its place. The sound of voices, angry voices, hundreds of voices all tumbling and echoing down the dar
k city streets.

  “They are coming,” Serafina whispered in Daphne’s ear. “Run!”

  Daphne ran without a thought for where she might go and what she might do when she got there. She only knew that she wanted to be away from the people, away from their angry voices and angry eyes. Again and again she turned toward her own home, but each time she turned away, unwilling to risk leading the mob back to her precious Justin and little Violet.

  Again she stopped in a dark intersection to listen for the voices. She could still hear them, though they were faint. “What now? Where can we go?” she whispered to the spirit.

  “Hide,” Serafina whispered back. “Hide where they cannot follow and cannot seek.”

  “Where is that?” Daphne spun around, staring at the dark windows and doors of the houses all around her.

  “Up. Up above. Go up and up and hide where they cannot follow and cannot seek.”

  Daphne stopped turning and looked up at the dark outlines of the roofs and chimneys. “I can’t climb up there without a ladder.”

  “Don’t climb. Jump.”

  The angry voices echoed louder and louder in the street above, and the flickering light of torches danced on the dark houses in the distance.

  Daphne ran, but the spirit whispered again, “Jump!” She looked up at the roofs thinking, No, it’s impossible, no one could jump that high. But even so, she felt how lightly and swiftly she ran. Her legs and arms were not tiring. She was not gasping for breath. Her heart was not pounding in her chest. She felt as light as a leaf on the wind, light as a feather.

  Maybe I can.

  She picked out a roof that looked a little lower than the others and she leapt. She had hoped at best to catch the bottom edge of the roof with her hands but instead she flew up just above the peak of the roof and landed lightly on the back side of the house. Daphne froze. “I did it!”

  “Of course. A phoenix is more than mere immortal beauty,” Serafina said. “Now hide until this mob grows tired and goes home to bed.”

  Daphne dashed lightly from rooftop to rooftop, gliding easily over the long spaces in between until she found a nook on the back side of a large house nestled in between two angles of the roof and a large brick chimney. She sat down on the old mossy thatching and leaned back against the hard, cold chimney. No more voices echoed in the distance, no more torch light played in the shadows. It was over. She closed her eyes to rest, just for a moment, and fell asleep in an instant.

  Daphne dreamed.

  She dreamed that she stood on the peak of a mountain, perched on a narrow spire of rock high above the rolling green hills, high above the sentinel pines, higher even than the clouds drifting like islands in the air. Above her blazed a golden sun in an azure sky and a warm breeze played through her feathers. She spread her wings and stepped lightly off her perch into the unseen wind. Gliding on golden feathers, she flew out and away from her mountain, out and away over the wide world. Gazing down, she saw forests shimmering in their emerald finery, and the seas rippled like tumbling sapphires sparkling in the sunlight.

  When she saw some tiny speck dashing about or shining particularly brightly, she folded her wings and swept down out of the sky for a closer look, pale flames coming off her feathers in waves across the heavens. She swooped and dived, somersaulted and barrel-rolled, and when she had seen enough of the earth she spread her wings again and soared back up among the clouds.

  The clouds.

  The clouds tickled her with unfallen rain, speckling her wings with shining drops of water that made her shiver with delight. The great white masses glided over her body like ribbons of silk, so soft and delicate she could barely feel them. And when she emerged again into the clear blue skies, the sun warmed her whole body like a mother’s embrace.

  Perhaps the sun is my mother, she mused.

  She flew on above a world without end. Below her rose cities of men, sailing ships, even armies with engines of war, but they were nothing to her, nothing more than armies of ants crawling across the face of the earth. She flew and flew forever, reveling in the sun, bathing in the clouds, and swimming through the air with one eager eye always turned toward the beckoning horizon and its endless promises of more.

  When Daphne woke, the first thing she saw was the white frost on the roof all around her, but there was no frost on her body or clothes and she was not cold at all. And everywhere she looked all over the rough thatching and the hard brick were dozens and dozens of monarch butterflies. Their gold and black wings opened and closed, rising in salute before flattening down and carpeting the roof with their delicate beauty. Daphne whispered, “What are they doing?”

  “Saying good morning,” Serafina answered. The phoenix’s voice seemed to have settled on her right side, as though she were merely another friend standing just out of sight beside her. “They always greet me in the morning like this. Who greets you in the morning?”

  Daphne thought of Violet’s soft cries and the first feeding of the day. “My daughter.”

  “This is an improvement, then.”

  “No! I didn’t want this. I don’t want any of this. I just want my life back. Why did you do this to me?” She wrapped her arms around her middle so she wouldn’t have to look at her golden hands.

  “Because I want to live.”

  “Then why not just fly away from here?”

  “Because my time had come. My body had been consumed and was close to death. There was no time to go out into the world in search of another. I have lived a thousand years in the form of that bird. Each century I lie down in the burning nest and awaken young and beautiful again. But not now. My bond with the Silver Ash is breaking. The tree is dying. I dare not trust the power of its flame any longer.”

  Daphne remembered the poor dead goose lying across her arm in the grass the night before. “You were trapped in that goose?”

  “No. My spirit was greater, so the goose was trapped in me. I was free to do as I wished in that body. But your spirit is as great as mine, so I cannot rule you. And casting my spirit from one body to another proved more exhausting than I expected. Do as you will. I am content to live here with you. For now.”

  “Well, I’m not.” Daphne stood up and the air was suddenly filled with startled butterflies taking wing and fluttering away. She walked to the peak of the roof and looked out over the city of Trevell as it slept away the last hour of the night. Already the eastern sky was growing lighter and she knew that soon the people would rise from their beds and flood the streets as they went about their work.

  Quick as a hummingbird she darted across the roof and leapt to the next one, and the next one, rushing across the city high above where no one would see her except as a gold and red blur as she flew from one house to the next. Finally she came to her own little house and she dropped to the street, glanced around once to be sure she hadn’t been followed or seen, and she went inside.

  Justin lay on the bed with Violet curled up in the crook of his arm. Daphne stood over them for a long moment, uncertain of how to wake him, or what to say. She reached out to touch his arm and his eyes opened. He stared at her. “Daphne? Is that you?”

  “Yes.” She stepped back, wishing she had covered herself with a blanket or shawl, at least to hide the sparkling ruby feathers on her head. “It’s me.”

  Justin carefully pulled his arm away from the sleeping baby and stood. He had slept in his clothes, all but his boots. Together they moved to the far end of the room. “They came last night,” he said. “So many people, all banging on the door and yelling. They said you had bewitched the phoenix and stolen its spirit. They said you stopped the rebirth. They said the city is going to die. What happened?”

  “Something is wrong with the Silver Ash,” Daphne said. “Serafina, the phoenix, refused to lie down in her burning nest because she was afraid that this time she would not come back to life. But her body was failing all the same. So instead of the flames, she gave her spirit to me. One moment I was just singing a lulla
by to her, and the next moment, I looked like this.” She held out her golden hands to him.

  Justin took her hand and stroked her cheek. “Are you hurt?”

  “No. It’s strange. I feel light. Tireless. I feel more awake, more aware than ever before. Everything looks and sounds sharper to me now. And Serafina is here with me, just as she was in the bird. When she speaks, you’ll hear her.”

  Her husband frowned. “What does she say? What does she want?”

  “She says she’s content to stay here within me like this. All she wants is to go on living.”

  “But why you?”

  Daphne shrugged. “Because I was there.”

  “Then why can’t she take another body and leave you in peace?”

  Daphne cleared her throat. “Serafina? If we were to go out of the city and find you another creature, another bird perhaps, would you give your spirit to that animal and leave me as I was before?”

  “Perhaps,” the phoenix said. “But not today. Not soon. Moving from one body to another is very tiring. Later perhaps.”

  Justin frowned deeper. “When? Today? Tomorrow?”

  “In a few months. Perhaps.”

  “That’s too late!” He grimaced and looked away, staring through the bleary windows.

  Daphne touched his arm. “Too late for what? And what did you mean before about the phoenix needing to be reborn soon?”

  Justin sighed and looked back at her again. “Have you heard of Kerys? It stands beyond the eastern hills at the edge of the sea. It’s just a city, no larger than Trevell, but they have no spirit tree to bend their fates. Kerys is always as strong as the people bother to make it. But they have learned about the Silver Ash, and they know that we are now as weak as we will ever be. An army left Kerys two days ago. They are coming here, hoping to capture Trevell before the rebirth. They could conquer us easily, and then after the rebirth their captured prize would become a strong and wealthy city overnight. That is why the phoenix must be reborn as quickly as possible. If she does not revive the Silver Ash soon, all of Trevell will be lost.”

  Daphne stared at him. “What would happen to us? What would happen to Violet?”

  “Nothing good,” Serafina said lightly. “So you must flee this place and find another home. It’s no matter. One place is much like another.”

  “No, I’m not going to run away. I won’t abandon my home, my family, or anyone else.” Daphne glanced around the room as though it held some clues or answers, but it held only old furniture, old clothes, and old pictures. “The doctor. We’ll ask him. I’m sure he can help us.”

  “Good, let’s go.” Justin reached for his boots.

  Daphne stayed his hand. “No. You have to stay here and protect Violet. The mob may return looking for me, and if they do we can’t let them know that I was here.”

  “But I should be with you. Let me protect you!” Justin glanced at his dented sword and rusty musket in the corner by the door.

  “No. You protect me and everyone else in Trevell every day. But now it’s my turn to protect you. Stay here and watch over Violet. I will come back as soon as I can. Don’t worry.” She kissed him. “I can go where no one can follow me. I’ll be safe. I promise.”

  And before he could speak, she slipped out the door, leapt up to the nearest rooftop, and dashed away without looking back. She didn’t dare look back.