The Last Phoenix

by Linda Chapman

  The phoenix hopped quietly out of the way of Jess’s fingers and winked at Michael. “They can’t see me and they can’t hear me either!”

  “What, really?” Michael watched the others’ faces for any signs this was a wind-up, but found none.

  Fenella chuckled. “And now you can’t either!”

  With that, she disappeared.

  “Whoa!” said Michael. “Where’d you go?”

  The beanbag shifted on the floor a little—and suddenly Fenella shimmered back into sight. “Here I am!”

  “Wow,” said Milly. “That’s amazing!” Michael, Jason, and Jess nodded eagerly.

  “Shame it doesn’t really solve the problem of where we can hide you,” said Jess, thoughtfully. “Even if you’re not noticed, people would keep turning off the oven.”

  “If only we had a spare oven,” said Jason.

  “I know!” Milly gasped. “Mr. Milton’s old workshop! It’s got a kiln that gets ever so hot—and he never uses it—that’s why he let Ann and me use it instead!”

  “A kiln!” Fenella beamed. “For firing pots? One that people hardly ever use? Sweet heavens in flight, that sounds right up my airstream.”

  “And I’m supposed to be taking Milly there today in any case to pick up those pots she and Mum did.” Jess realized with a grin. “That’s a perfect excuse to go there.”

  “So what are we waiting for?” said Michael. “Let’s go!”

  “Ooh!” Fenella swept one wing to her breast. “Such energy! Such resourcefulness! Such courage!”

  “Er…Michael!” Milly called.

  “Yeah, what?” he said, stopping, his dressing gown flapping around his legs.

  Milly grinned. “Maybe we should get dressed first!”

  Half an hour and four bowls of gulped-down cornflakes later, the Worthingtons stepped out of the house into the midmorning sunshine.

  “With weather like this,” said Michael, “we’ll have no trouble finding a shaft of sunlight from tomorrow.”

  “I hope we can start today,” said Milly longingly.

  Jason nodded. “I hope this kiln place works out okay for Fenella.”

  “Where is she?” Milly wondered. They’d left their new friend to make her own way out of the den window. “Perhaps she’s turned invisible?”

  The phoenix suddenly flapped into view. She landed heavily in a tree, sending two plump woodpigeons clattering from its branches. “Sorry, lovies!” she called after them.

  “Or perhaps not,” said Michael.

  “Oh, but I will be invisible, my little goslings,” Fenella called. “To anyone but you. Come on, then, lead the way!”

  Jess looked at Milly. “You do remember the way to Mr. Milton’s, don’t you?”

  “I went in the car with Ann last time,” Milly recalled, “but I think if we go up the road away from town and then cut through the churchyard and out along the footpath that should get us there.”

  They set off, Fenella flying above them, her egg held in her feet, belting out a song about an oak tree.

  “I love singing too!” Milly called. “I’m hoping to be the star of a show. Only a local one…”

  “Milly, shhh!” Jess looked around anxiously. It was hard to believe that passersby wouldn’t notice the big, golden turkey-shaped bird flapping along, singing at the top of her lungs. “Michael,” she whispered, lagging behind Jason and Milly. “You do think Fenella’s invisibility charm is working, don’t you? I mean, she’s a bit scatty, isn’t she? What if she’s got it wrong?”

  “Guess we won’t know until someone else comes along,” said Michael grimly. A gang of boys bustled into view around the corner of the street ahead of them. “Look, we can test it…oh, no!” He broke off, stumbling to a halt and looking horrified. “No, please, no!”

  Jess caught her breath. The people coming down the hill were Michael’s friends Josh, Sam, and Thomas—and with them was the new boy-heartthrob, Rick. He was laughing with Sam and slapping Thomas on the back.

  “This is a disaster!” Michael hissed.

  “Don’t be daft, Michael—my magic’s still working.” Fenella swooped merrily down straight toward the gang of boys, and not one of them so much as blinked. She flew back up to the nearest tree. “Ta-daaa!”

  Jess smiled. “Panic over!”

  “The disaster I was talking about was being seen out with my little sister, stepbrother, and uncool older stepsister,” Michael muttered. Jess elbowed him in the ribs, but he hardly felt it. What were his friends doing out together, anyway? He hadn’t known they were meeting up—especially not with Rick.

  “Hey, Michael!” called Josh.

  “Hi,” said Michael.

  Rick threw a look at Milly and Jason. “Off on a nursery-school outing, are you?”

  For a moment, Michael wondered wildly if he could deny all association with Jason and Milly. But Milly threw Rick a withering look. “Oh, ha, ha. Very funny. Come on, Michael, we’re busy.”

  “Oh yeah?” said Josh. “What’re you up to?”

  Michael shrugged. “You know. Stuff. What about you?”

  “We were just going into town,” said Thomas.

  Michael felt his cheeks prickle. So they’d been about to go into town, but without him.

  “We tried giving you a ring,” said Josh, looking awkward. “But there was no answer.”

  Yeah, right, thought Michael.

  “Do you want to come with us then?” Rick said.

  “We’ve got to go, Michael!” Milly insisted.

  Michael ran his hand through his hair trying to act cool but it was hard with Milly tugging at his T-shirt.

  To Michael’s relief, Jess came to his rescue. “Hey, let’s get a move on, you two,” she said to Jason and Milly. “Michael can catch up in a minute.” Michael’s eyes caught hers. I owe you one, he told her silently.

  “So, what are you doing then?” Rick said, a faint challenge in his voice. “Can you come with us to town?”

  Michael gritted his teeth. “My, uh…my stepmum laid a load of errands on me ’cause I broke so many rules this week.”

  “Cool,” said Josh.

  “Never mind then, mate. Another time,” said Rick easily. “Hey, I got my allowance today. How about I treat everyone to a burger tonight—end of half-term treat?”

  “Cool!” said Josh again, with more enthusiasm, and Sam and Thomas nodded.

  “Well, Michael?” said Rick.

  Michael looked at Rick’s clear, confident face and the words came out of him before he could stop himself. “I’d love to, mate,” he said with a short smile. “But actually I get my allowance too and I’d been planning to treat everyone as a surprise.”

  Rick looked taken aback. “Oh.”

  That phoenix had better be right about that gold she’s going to give us, thought Michael. “Not just for a burger though,” he went on airily. “I thought we could go to the new multiplex in Quilborough—tickets, hot dogs, and popcorn. The works. All on me.”

  His friends stared at him. “But you only get a rubbish allowance,” said Sam. “You’re always moaning about how broke you are.”

  “Well, I got extra this time.” Michael licked his dry lips—Fenella would give him some gold in advance of finding the stuff, he was sure. Then he could trade some in for cash to fund a trip to the multiplex. He’d be loaded! “I…er…my parents found another valuable book—I found it, actually—and so they’ve given me some of the money.”

  “But I thought you broke so many rules you had to do errands?” said Rick.

  “Yeah…” Michael shrugged. “Well, I took the errands over a cash deduction. You on for it then?”

  They all nodded. “You bet!” said Sam.

  Michael noted Rick’s slightly crestfallen face and felt a surge of triumph. “I’ll meet you outside the ticket office at eight, yeah?” he said, lifting his fist and knocking knuckles with the four of them. “Laters.” Then he sauntered off up the hill after Jess, Milly, and Jason.

&nbs
p; Jess looked up as he joined them. “Everything okay?”

  “For once, everything’s fine,” said Michael. And he meant it. A grin spread across his face as Fenella launched herself from her branch and fluttered along over their heads. Maybe having a talking phoenix in their lives wasn’t going to be such a bad thing after all….

  Chapter Six

  After fifteen minutes of walking, the Worthingtons reached the footpath that bordered the large country house where Mr. Milton lived. The gardens of the house were separated from the footpath by a wooden fence and a hedge, but at different points along the path the hedge was sparse and it was possible to see into the gardens.

  The house was old and rambling. Around the back of it there were massive French windows, and grand stone steps led down from a large patio into the gardens. Mossy stone statues and bushes cut into the shapes of animals were dotted here and there. The lawns near the house were mown short with neat flowers in beds, but farther away from the house there was a wood and an orchard.

  Michael whistled. “The old geezer must be worth a fortune to have a place like this.”

  “Come on,” said Milly. “The workshop isn’t far from the main drive around the front. Let’s see if it’s any good.” The others followed her down the footpath, along the road, and into the mouth of a grand driveway that led into the landscaped grounds while Fenella flapped about in the treetops.

  “May I help you?” The warm voice was gentle but made Jess jump all the same. She and the others turned to find a short, slightly tubby man with thinning gray hair emerge from a nearby line of rosebushes, watching them with a quizzical smile. It was hard to tell his age. His face was lined and his back a little stooped, but his eyes seemed bright and youthful.

  “Mr. Milton!” cried Milly.

  “Why, it’s Milly Worthington, isn’t it?” said Mr. Milton, a twinkle in his eyes. “You’ll be here to collect those pots you fired, I’ll be bound, with your…friends?”

  “Family,” said Milly. “Michael, Jason, and Jess.”

  Mr. Milton shook hands with each of them in turn. “I’m pleased to meet you. I’m afraid it’s not often I have so many visitors come to call.” He paused, and his smile grew hopeful. “Are the rest of you interested in pottery too?”

  “Sort of,” said Jason cautiously.

  “We wondered if we could have a quick look around the workshop,” Jess added.

  “Of course!” Mr. Milton nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll show you.”

  As Jess and the others followed him into the gardens, Jess’s eyes fell on a few of the nearby statues. They were all carved in a similar style. One looked like an enormous gargoyle perched on a stone pillar. She looked across the lawn and saw a stallion rearing up, its mane and tail flowing behind it. Nearer the house were two creatures that looked to be half-lion, half-bird. They were fighting, locked in combat.

  “Have you had these statues long?” Jason wondered aloud.

  “I made them myself,” said Mr. Milton shyly. “Many moons ago now.”

  Jess was impressed. “Really?”

  “I used to be a very busy artist indeed.” The old man seemed pleased by her interest. “I’m afraid my hands are a bit wobbly now, so I stick to restoring my statues to their original glory.”

  “Like that one!” Jason exclaimed.

  Jess saw he was pointing to a statue of a beautiful woman in the center of the garden. She stood spotless and white in the center of a circle of stone, surrounded by stone benches. “It looks brand-new and so real. Look at her face.”

  “I often do,” Mr. Milton confided. “It makes me feel less lonely.” He gazed sadly at the statue for some time, apparently forgetting the children were there.

  This guy’s fruit loops, Michael thought. Maybe we should go someplace else.

  “Was the model someone you knew?” asked Milly politely.

  “I did know her very well…” Suddenly, Mr. Milton roused himself, looking reassuringly normal and friendly again. “Sorry. You must forgive an old man and his memories. Oh, it is nice to have guests for a change. Now, come! Let me show you that workshop…”

  The children followed him into the small brick building. It was very warm inside. There was an electric oven built into the far wall with an old metal door. On the left side of the room there was a wide stone shelf that ran the length of the building with dusty bags of clay underneath and some pottery tools on top, and on the right side of the room there was a potter’s wheel and a stone bench—with some basic pots piled up waiting to be glazed.

  “Wow!” said Milly, rushing to see. “They look all right, don’t they?”

  “Indeed they do.” Mr. Milton beamed. “You have a natural ability, Milly.”

  “There you go, sis,” said Michael. “When your Annie audition flops you can make pots instead!”

  Milly leveled a glare at him, but broke off when Fenella swooped down and hovered in the open doorway. “Oh yes!” the bird cooed rapturously. “Feel the warmth!”

  Jason fanned his face nervously. “Have you been making something today, Mr. Milton?”

  “Oh, no. Like I say, wobbly hands.” Mr. Milton shrugged; he seemed a little embarrassed. “I was tinkering with the controls after you came with your stepmother, Milly, and I’m afraid they jammed on. I can’t turn off the kiln. I’ve called someone to fix it but they can’t come for a week…”

  “Perfect!” Fenella whooped, flying in above their heads. “I’ll be done with it by then. It’s fate!”

  Jess tried to stifle a smile and Mr. Milton looked at her quizzically—of course, he’d seen and heard nothing at all. “It seems a shame to waste all that electricity,” she said carefully. “Perhaps we could all have a go at doing some pottery?”

  “Well, you seem sensible children…” The old man beamed. “So long as you don’t use the kiln without adult supervision, you’re welcome to come here whenever you wish.”

  “Really?” Milly couldn’t help sharing an excited glance with Fenella. “And would it be okay if we…left things here between visits?”

  “Of course! You don’t want to be lugging pots and clay and goodness knows what all over the place. Leave whatever you like. Treat the place as your own.” Mr. Milton walked to the doorway and Fenella quickly fluttered aside. “Now, I’m afraid I must leave you for a while. I have an elderly guest staying who’s dreadfully fussy.” He chuckled and nodded to himself. “I’d better attend to him before I get back to my garden. See you again, children. Take care.” With a last little smile, he hobbled off.

  The four children held their breaths until he was a safe distance away and then let out their laughter and relief as Fenella came spiraling inside.

  “I’m home!” she declared, grabbing the handle to the kiln door with her golden talons. She tugged it open and a wave of intense heat swept through the workshop. “Ooooh, heaven,” she said, nuzzling inside and placing her egg on the gritty oven floor. “Cozy as crumpets. This is just the place for me, lovies—thank you! Thank you!”

  “Thank old Milton,” said Michael, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Amazingly lucky though, isn’t it—the perfect place falling into our laps? I mean, talk about mega-coincidence.”

  “It’s destiny!” Fenella declared dramatically.

  Jason nodded. “Mr. Milton gave us permission to leave things here and we can come back whenever we want!”

  “We’ll have to tell Mum she can’t come for a week,” Jess realized. “But she’ll probably be too tied up at work to play with pots anyway.”

  “I’m glad Mr. Milton has got someone staying with him,” said Milly. “He smiles a lot but he does seem sad.”

  “He’s weird,” Michael declared.

  “He’s just a bit eccentric, I think,” said Jess. “Artists often are, aren’t they? He’s really talented, though. Did you see those fighting bird things?”

  “Gryphons, dearie,” put in Fenella. “I once knew a gryphon. George, his name was. Slightly grumpy but lovely all the sam
e.” She laughed warmly. “I’ll cheer up that nice Mr. Milton when I’m done here, never you fret. He reminds me of somebody…Alfred the Great! That was it. He was a great one for roses, was Alfred.”

  “What?” Jason stared. “You knew Alfred the Great, the ancient English king?”

  “Who d’you think taught him to sing? Without me he’d never have been able to sneak into the Viking camp disguised as a minstrel and learn their plans.” Fenella ruffled her feathers. “Oh, I’ve known them all, my pet, the great and the good. And I’ll leave Milton the Great some lovely phoenix gold when all this is over to say thank you for my bed and board!”

  Milly smiled and stroked her back. “You’re so nice.”

  “Ooooh!” Fenella rustled her feathers. “That’s what I call nice!” She blinked up at Milly through her long eyelashes. “I do like my head scratched too…”

  “Okay.” Milly giggled and scratched the bird’s head. Fenella cooed and clucked. “Jess, come and stroke her too!”

  Jess gently brushed her palm against the phoenix’s wings. Fenella went into a fit of tweeting and twittering.

  “Sorry to interrupt the giggle-fest,” said Michael, “but isn’t it about time we got cracking on this quest of yours? And any chance of some gold up front?”

  “Michael!” Milly chided.

  “Oh, lovie,” said Fenella, sighing as Jess tickled her chin. “I only wish I could oblige you. But I’ll need some of tomorrow’s sunshine first.”

  “Of course.” Jason showed Michael the map and pointed to the first instruction. “‘You must capture a shaft of tomorrow’s sunshine and spin that glorious light into golden thread.’”

  Michael frowned. “Yeah, but how can we really get sunlight from tomorrow? That’s impossible.”

  “Not with phoenix magic, it isn’t.” Fenella’s blue eyes were agleam. “My feathers can be used to travel into the past, present, and future. A single one can take you back to any point in this body’s lifetime and to anywhere in the world I could reach. Or whisk you off to any point in the future where my loveliness can still be found.”

  “What?” asked Milly, looking confused.