The Mage and the Magpie

by Austin J. Bailey

  “Flitlitter has been hurt,” Tabitha informed them. “I think it may have been a hawk.”

  “Will he be okay?” Denmyn asked.

  “Oh, he’ll be fine.” Tabitha said dismissively, “but he’s lucky I was here when he arrived or he would have been in real trouble.”

  Brinley turned away to hide a smile and then remembered that nobody could see it anyway. She could see why the school counselor made it a habit to keep tabs on this girl.

  “How are the starlings doing?” Denmyn asked conversationally.

  “They’re on the mend,” Tabitha said, shrugging.

  “Last month, Tabitha rescued a whole family of starlings,” Denmyn explained to Hugo. “They were nearly crushed by a falling tree not far from here. I do believe they would have died without her ministrations. Now they are almost flying again.”

  Tabitha blushed.

  “Where are they?” Denmyn asked. “I would like to look in on them.”

  Tabitha pointed, and Denmyn made her way across the menagerie, leaving the children alone.

  “I really am glad you came,” Tabitha said to no one in particular. She was looking at the bird.

  “Yeah,” Hugo said awkwardly. “Me too. This is a nice uh‌—‌tower you have here.”

  “Thanks,” she said, and her abnormally wide eyes swiveled to rest on Brinley. “What’s your name?”

  Brinley gave a small start. “I’m Brinley,” she said without thinking.

  “Hi, Brinley,” Tabitha said.

  “You can see me?”

  Hugo’s mouth fell open stupidly. “You can see her?” he echoed indignantly.

  “Oh, yes,” Tabitha said, facing Brinley. She stood closer than most people do when you talk to them. “I hope that’s okay,” she said. “I can tell you don’t want to be seen‌—‌like a startlewish, or a plover‌—‌but even the shy birds come to me these days‌—‌like you.”

  Brinley didn’t know what to say, and before she had time to think of something, Tabitha was changing the subject. She was holding up her arm so that the bird was as far away from her as possible. She raised her other hand to her mouth, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  Brinley tried not to smile. This was obviously a serious matter to Tabitha. “Yes,” she whispered back.

  Tabitha checked to make sure that Denmyn was still browsing among the other birds, then looked back at her sideways, lifting the magpie even farther away as if to keep it from overhearing. “Flitlitter isn’t really a boy!” she said so quietly that Brinley almost didn’t hear. “He’s just pretending.”

  Brinley bit her lip, trying to hide a smile again, but ended up laughing instead. She watched Tabitha, worried she might be offended. Tabitha just stared at her wide-eyed for a moment. Then, to Brinley’s relief, she smiled. “Yes,” she said kindly. “I think it’s silly too, but I humor him.” She set Flitlitter back down on the edge of the basin and leaned on one leg, staring intently at a point somewhere halfway between her and the birdbath.

  Brinley waited for her to say something else, but she didn’t move. She didn’t even blink. Brinley suppressed the urge to wave her hand in front of Tabitha’s face. Hugo looked inquiringly at Denmyn as the old lady approached them again. She put a hand on Tabitha’s shoulder.

  “Tabitha?”

  Tabitha jumped. “What? Ooooh, sorry, did you say something?”

  Denmyn patted the young girl gently on the shoulder and smiled. “You were going to tell us what Flitlitter said, I think. You said we wouldn’t believe it, but I do hope you will give us a try.”

  “Oh…yes.” Tabitha turned back mater-of-factly to the bird and picked it up again, walking back to the center of the room.

  “Flitlitter says that there is someone hurt down by the Lake of Eyes,” she said.

  “I see,” Denmyn said patiently, reaching out to take Flitlitter. Tabitha handed him over, and Denmyn looked at him carefully. After a moment she looked up at Tabitha. “Did he say who?”

  “Yes,” Tabitha said, “but I can’t understand him. I think I just don’t know the word he is using.” As soon as she said it, the bird turned in Denmyn’s hands. It opened its beak and started singing in a throaty voice. Tabitha shook her head stubbornly, looking at the bird. “I told you before, Flitlitter. There are no such things.” She turned to Denmyn, “He is saying it is a ‘lion bird,’ but there are no such things, are there?”

  Denmyn looked startled. “A lion bird?” she asked. “Does he mean a Laurel?”

  Flitlitter let out a series of vehement squawks, and Tabitha’s eyes widened. “Oh my, yes, that’s what he means.” Tabitha shook her finger, scolding the bird, “Don’t you talk to me that way! How was I to know what a Laurel was? What’s a Laurel?” she added in a brighter tone, turning to Denmyn.

  “A winged lion,” Denmyn answered. She was already across the room, depositing Flitlitter back into the birdbath. Tabitha moved after her, apparently dissatisfied with the answer. “They are an ancient species,” Denmyn continued. “There is only one Laurel left in this world. Come with me,” she said, taking Tabitha’s hand and hurrying them toward the ladder.

  “But the birds!” Tabitha protested. “I haven’t got all their news yet!”

  “This is all the news we can handle today,” Denmyn said shortly, huffing a little as she descended at a quick pace. “If I am not mistaken, Flitlitter has found the Magemother’s herald.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  In which there is a mighty roar

  Have you met this healer before, Tabitha?” Hugo asked, trying to peer inside the smoked glass window of the door. Brinley and Hugo were waiting with Tabitha outside an office on the ground floor. Denmyn had given them instructions to wait for her there while she left to fetch Archibald and Cannon. According to Denmyn, Lumps the healer would be an important part of their rescue mission.

  “Oh, yes,” Tabitha replied cheerfully. “Lots of times. Master Lumps is one of my teachers.” She sighed and began to pick feathers out of her hair. Soon she had a handful, and was looking around for a place to put them. Brinley held out her hands like a cup. Tabitha smiled at her, deposited the feathers, and went back to picking through her hair.

  “He helps me with the birds sometimes, if I don’t know enough, but that isn’t very often anymore. He’s taught me lots and lots about healing birds…” Tabitha got lost in some thought. Her fingers slowly stilled in her hair and her eyes glazed over again, staring at some point in the empty space ahead of her.

  “Tabitha,” Brinley said loudly, startling the girl out of her strange reverie.

  “Oooh‌—‌what? Sorry.” She looked at Brinley, hands working in her hair again, patiently waiting for whatever she had missed to be repeated. Brinley looked at Hugo, who was watching Tabitha with a half-smile. Evidently, these moments of fading in and out were a normal occurrence for the girl.

  Hugo indicated the door. “Maybe we should knock, you know? I mean, Denmyn’s been gone for a while and I bet she’ll be back soon. Maybe we should try and get this Master Lumps ready?”

  “Okay,” Tabitha said, scooping her little pile of feathers out of Brinley’s hands and standing up. Hugo turned and was about to knock, but Tabitha brushed past him and walked right in. “Maaaaster Lumpppssiieee,” she called in a singsong voice. “Iiiiitt’s mmeee!”

  Brinley could see why she was shouting. The room was immense, all bookcases and tables and charts and pictures of muscles and bones. “Master Lumps is out of his office right now,” Tabitha said as if she were his secretary. “We’ll just have to wait for him.” She brushed aside some scrolls and a colored skull and sat down in a cushy armchair, her feet hovering a few inches off the floor. “Oh look,” she said, pointing across the room to Lumps’s desk. “He’s left his satchel. That’s odd, isn’t it?”

  “Is it?” Brinley asked, looking around for a place to sit. Hugo had given up and leaned against the door instead.

  “Oh, yes.” She mimicked her
teacher in a deep voice, “‘A healer always has his bag.’ Look! I’ve got mine right here, just like he says.” She raised a little black leather pouch from under her shirt.

  Brinley smiled. “Interesting.”

  They waited in silence. After several minutes, Brinley started to fidget with uneasiness. Casting around for something to do, she caught sight of a piece of paper sitting on a low table near her. She leaned over, took a pencil out of her hair and began to draw. She drew a handful of objects sitting in view‌—‌a paperweight, an apple core. Then she began to draw Tabitha’s bird tower.

  Several minutes later Hugo startled her. “Are you doing that, Brinley?”

  She dropped her pencil in surprise. He was standing right beside her. “Oh, yes,” she whispered. She hadn’t thought of how odd it must look to him. No doubt he saw a picture appearing on the page out of nowhere.

  “You’re really good,” he said kindly, taking a step back. He jabbed a finger in Tabitha’s direction. “I think she’s out of it again.”

  Brinley followed his gaze. Sure enough, Tabitha had glazed over. Brinley wondered what went through her head when that happened. “Should we wake her up?”

  Hugo shrugged.

  Brinley wondered how much time had passed. She glanced around for a clock, then realized that she hadn’t seen one anywhere since entering this world. “I hope Denmyn hurries back,” she said. “I don’t know what a Laurel is, but I don’t like the idea of it waiting for us out there, hurt.”

  “Oh,” Tabitha said, coming around. “Ohh, no. I forgot! You’re right. That’s terrible! We have to go save him.” With that she stood up, strode across the room, and took the black satchel off Lumps’s desk. She hastened out of the room without another word, and Brinley was forced to run after her.

  “Hey, wait!” Hugo said, leaning out of Lumps’s office and shouting after them.

  But it was no use. Tabitha had already disappeared around the corner of the hall.

  “Brinley?” he said to the empty corridor. “Are you still here?”

  Nothing.

  “Oy,” he said, and closed the office door before following them.

  But by the time he got out to the main hall, they were gone.

  ***

  “Tabitha, wait! I didn’t mean‌—‌I don’t like waiting any more than you do, but don’t you think we should? I mean, we can’t just go off on our own!” Brinley followed Tabitha through a door at the end of the main hall. It led down a flight of stone steps into darkness.

  “Don’t worry,” Tabitha’s voice echoed up from below. “You’ll be fine. You’re with me.” Her voice was farther away now, and Brinley hurried after her. She didn’t like the thought of Denmyn bringing the others back only to find them missing. Then she looked around and saw there was no sign of Hugo. At least he would be able to tell the others where they had gone. That is, assuming he understood what Tabitha was talking about.

  Brinley was relieved to find that the stairs were not long. Nor did they lead into a dungeon. Rather, they ended at a door that led outside to a large lawn.

  “This way,” Tabitha said, taking Brinley’s hand. They went around the castle and started toward the forest. Halfway there, they saw a young page leading a dapple gray pony. “Oooh, good!” Tabitha said enthusiastically when she noticed them coming, and hurried off to intersect.

  “Thank you, Tobias,” she said cheerfully, taking the reins out of his hands as soon as she reached him. “It will be much faster with a pony.” She mounted and motioned for Brinley to join her, ignoring the boy’s protests.

  “Wait, girl! That pony belongs to the king’s man! You can’t just take him for a joy ride, he’s going to the stables. Besides,” he added, reaching out to grab the reins, “he’s tired.”

  “No, he isn’t,” Tabitha said stubbornly, turning so that the reins spun out of his reach. Brinley swung her leg over the back of the saddle, glad that her father had taught her how to ride last summer. They trotted away at a quick pace, Tobias’s pleas going unnoticed behind them.

  “Sometimes you have to push people around a bit when they get silly,” Tabitha said sagely.

  They were almost into the trees now, and Brinley was relieved to see a path ahead. She guessed that they had less than an hour before sunset and she didn’t fancy getting lost in the middle of a forest in the dark with nothing but a pony and an eccentric girl. “How far is it to the lake you mentioned?” she asked.

  “Not far,” Tabitha replied. “I walk there for picnics sometimes. There are a lot of birds. They like the water.”

  As if on cue, a bird swept up from behind them and landed on the saddle in front of Tabitha. “Flitlitter!” Tabitha exclaimed. “What are you doing here? You are supposed to be resting. Go back right now. Are you listening to me?” The bird made a honking sort of noise, ruffling its jet black feathers.

  “Oooh,” Tabitha growled in irritation. “Okay, you can come, but hold still a second!” The bandage around Flitlitter’s breast had slid out of place. He allowed her to reposition it.

  Then, to Brinley’s surprise, the bird hopped from Tabitha’s shoulder to her own, nibbling her hair delicately.

  “Oh, look,” Tabitha said brightly, “Flitlitter can see you too. Don’t eat her,” she said sternly, flicking the magpie as it nibbled Brinley’s hair again. “She’s my new friend.”

  Brinley blushed once again. She wasn’t used to having friends.

  As they trotted through the forest, Brinley began to inspect their pony a little more closely. He looked like a hardy animal, and seemed to take it in stride that he was now carrying two girls instead of his usual rider. “I wonder what his name is,” she said, patting his thigh.

  “Pilfer,” Tabitha offered.

  “Do you speak to horses now, too?” Brinley asked, surprised.

  “Says it on the saddle.” Tabitha pointed to the place without looking, and Brinley made a mental note not to underestimate her again. She might have some odd things going on in her head, but she certainly wasn’t less intelligent for it.

  Brinley didn’t know what Tabitha meant by not far, but after a half an hour the sun was almost set, and in the forest that meant that it was quite dark already. “Tabitha,” she said carefully. “I thought you said it wasn’t far.”

  “Well,” Tabitha said in a reasonable tone, “it takes longer in the dark.”

  “No, I don’t think it does, Tabitha,” Brinley said, trying not to sound mean. She wouldn’t blame Tabitha for getting lost, but she wanted to know it if they were. How had she gotten herself into this situation? “Didn’t you say you walk there for lunch sometimes?” she asked.

  “Well, yes,” Tabitha agreed, “but lunch takes all day sometimes…don’t worry, I don’t think it’s much farther.”

  Thankfully, she was right. After another couple minutes, the path opened up to a clearing, which led into a small, grassy canyon. The sun was down now, but the moon was full, and they could see it shining off a lake less than a mile away. They quickened their pace a little, and within a few minutes they were at the near edge, moving along it toward an outcropping of hills at the edge of a forest.

  “Do you see anything?” Brinley asked, craning around the other girl in an effort to see to the other side of the lake. It was difficult to see that far in the moonlight, and part of the lake seemed to turn back into the hills.

  “No, but there must be something.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Listen,” she said simply, and Brinley felt a little chill run down her spine as she realized how quiet it was. She felt glad again that she was invisible. Whatever was out there wouldn’t be able to see her. A second later she chided herself for the thought. What kind of friend would she be if she hid when things got dangerous?

  “Let’s talk about something,” Tabitha said quietly. “So we’re too busy to be scared.”

  “Um, okay,” Brinley said, searching for something to talk about. “How about birds? You can tell me about bird
s.”

  Tabitha smiled. “Tomorrow the thresters come to sing, especially here at the lake. There will be ducks on the water.”

  “Ducks,” Brinley whispered. “We have those where I’m from.”

  “Of course you do,” Tabitha said soothingly. “Everyone should have ducks.”

  A strange noise interrupted them. Pilfer snorted and dipped his head, stepping back.

  It sounded like a sheet of metal being torn apart. Brinley looked around wildly for the source of the noise. They heard it again, and this time there was no mistaking it: only a monster of enormous size could make a sound like that.

  “It doesn’t sound angry, whatever it is,” Tabitha noted. “Hurt maybe, or just curious.”

  A mighty roar shook the trees, the grass, their very bones. The hair on the back of Brinley’s neck stood up and she wanted to run, but nothing attacked them. It was hard to tell how far away the beast was.

  “It might be a little bit angry,” Tabitha conceded. “Or maybe it just wants us to know that it can kill us.”

  “Charming.”

  Pilfer had reared up at the roar, and Brinley had to throw her arms around Tabitha to keep from falling off. The pony was turning on the spot now, trying to retreat the way they had come. Tabitha pulled hard on the reins.

  “Easy, Pilfer. Don’t worry, boy, that’s who we came to help. It’s not going to eat you…I don’t think.” Pilfer calmed down, but he wouldn’t go any closer, so they had to dismount and proceed on foot.

  Flitlitter fluttered from the saddle, landing on Tabitha’s shoulder. Brinley wished she could get herself to calm down. The sound came again, a deep oscillating rasp that made her teeth rattle. Tabitha walked ahead at a steady pace and Brinley followed, wishing she knew what they were going to find in the dark.

  They headed up a little hill that jutted out toward the edge of the water and saw that on the other side there was a bowl-shaped valley. The valley was dark; trees shaded it from the moonlight.