by E. J. Clarke
“But I don’t want to control nature. All I want is to be with my mom and dad.”
The smile dropped from Jack’s face.
“Okay, princess,” he ordered. “Time to do your stuff. Stop playing around and sort out those foxes down there. They’re making a horrible mess of my house.”
“I can’t—”
“Course you can! And then you can finish off Vulpes, and we can all stop hiding from him down here. I’ve had enough of the darkness. I want us to live in the light!”
Rowan looked to her mother, desperate for an answer.
“You know what you have to do,” said her mother, her eyes shining with encouragement. “Wherever you are, whatever happens, you carry my love inside you. Always.”
Rowan looked into her mother’s eyes. Then she took a deep breath and turned to face the torrent of water above and the chasm below.
“You were wrong back then, Harold,” Rowan whispered to herself. “Chicks don’t get pushed off branches. This is how mothers teach their babies to fly.”
She leapt into the void. She felt the air rushing against her face, and heard the pounding of the water above. She was determined but calm. Somehow she knew what to do this time. She could feel her muscles expanding, her neck extending, her arms spreading out into wings. And in an instant her falling had turned to flying, and her flying to soaring. She could see great white feathered wings to either side of her, and knew that she had transformed into a majestic white swan, whirling around the column of water that crashed through the space. She looked down to see Jack waving his arms madly and shouting, beseeching her to come back, but she couldn’t hear him over the thunderous sound of the falling river. She took a last look below her to see her mother willing her on, and below her mother, her friends’ faces turned skyward, just for a second, to see her tuck back her wings and smash through the waterfall, soaring high into the air above.
She flew higher into the night sky of Bushy Park, surrounded by a canopy of stars. Then she banked around, swooping in a large arc, fixing her mind on transformation. As she’d first done flying around Buckingham Palace, she tried to clear every other thought from her head. She whirled closer and closer to the ground, whipping through branches and skipping off the surface of the river that ran through the park. She finally hit the ground in a tumble of feathers that turned to fur. She wasn’t human. She was a fox.
“I’ve seen what you can do. It’s very impressive,” a familiar voice slithered out in the dark night. Vulpes.
* Chapter Fifteen *
A HEART OF OAK
“I suppose you all thought I was down there, in that cavern, didn’t you? I’m afraid I can’t stand getting wet. I believe that’s something we share.”
Vulpes stood on the other side of the river. In the blink of an eye he leapt up, spun into fox form in midair, and landed next to her, all at such speed that one of his hands was still clenching into a furred claw as it hit the ground. Vulpes circled Rowan as she snarled at him, her lips drawing back across her fangs.
“I assume you’re trying to turn back into a human?” said Vulpes. “Not as easy as you think, is it? But then, I’ve been trying for a lot longer than you.”
Rowan scrabbled to her feet, trying once again to clear her mind, but it was impossible with Vulpes so close. Feeling defeated, her great fox limbs shrank away and she dissolved back into a fairy.
“Don’t be scared,” said Vulpes, still slowly wheeling around her. “You should be happy. Your mother is completely safe now. How silly I was to think she might be more powerful than me. She’s nothing compared to you.”
Rowan scrabbled at her throat and, with a shaking hand, held out her pendant so it pulled against her neck, knowing how important he still thought it was.
“Take it, Vulpes. Leave us all alone.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I will take it. But I’m afraid it’s not that simple, is it? If I’m not the fairy of most power, it won’t work for me, will it? I made that mistake last time. I should have finished off your mother while she was . . . closer. But that doesn’t matter anymore. Now the only fairy more powerful than me . . . is you.”
Rowan shuddered as Vulpes circled nearer.
“No more Rowan, no more problem.” Vulpes was so close now, all he needed to do was whisper. “I wonder if that’s what your mother was thinking when she fell into the Realms all those seven years ago? No. More. Rowan. . . .”
“No. You’re wrong,” said Rowan. But not with anger. Her head was clear, and she felt the strength starting to tingle through her again. “Everyone in this world felt hurt and alone once, but it’s only you who can’t seem to get over it. You don’t need me. And you don’t need to be human again to carry out some silly revenge. You just need to stop. Stop all of this and let everyone live in peace.”
Vulpes began to shrink back into his fairy form, the hairs of his fur withdrawing back into the skin. Rowan let out a small breath of relief.
“Maybe there is some truth in what you say. Maybe not.” He paused, pretending to think for a second. “But I’m having too much fun to stop now.”
He sprang forward, spinning in a whirl of fur back into a snarling orange fox, bearing down on her in a fury of jaws and claws. But Rowan was too quick for him, rolling out of the way and leaping up into the air, before feeling the powerful fox muscles returning to her body. In a flash she hit the ground again as the white fox and pounced on Vulpes, her teeth snapping. She sunk her claws into his orange fur, wrestling him to the ground with more strength than she ever thought she had. They bit and scratched and rolled and growled, but before she knew it, Vulpes had pinned her to the ground beneath him. He was so close that the saliva from his jaws dripped onto her muzzle, his head pulled back, ready to land the final blow. But Rowan wasn’t afraid. She was calm. She knew what to do. As Vulpes snapped forward, she shrank all her limbs and muscles at once, transforming herself into a white robin. Vulpes’s jaw cracked into the ground where Rowan the fox had been seconds before, almost knocking himself out with the force of the impact. Then as he came to his senses and rolled back onto his feet, Rowan summoned all the power she could muster and transformed herself from a robin into a great white stag. She bellowed and sent the fox scurrying back to the edge of the river that poured down into the palace below. Rowan the stag stalked forward, closing in on Vulpes. The fox seemed to cringe in fear. But instead of stamping him into the ground, Rowan allowed her anger to subside. She glanced down to see her great hooves mold back into delicate fairy feet.
She may have been a tiny creature, facing down a huge fox, but Rowan no longer felt vulnerable or afraid. She felt a tingling sensation that became a growing strength that surged up from her belly and into her arms. Her senses became supersharp. It was just like that first time in St. James’s Park, but on an entirely different scale. She held her arms out wide without quite knowing what she was doing. As she did so, the water in the river in front of her swelled and rose and built up into an almighty wave that loomed over Vulpes. She was commanding the very water itself. Pushing one hand forward, she sent the wave crashing over his head.
Rowan took a step forward, searching the surface of the water for any sign of Vulpes. Everything finally fell quiet, until all she could hear was the babbling of the water.
“I do so hate getting wet,” came a voice from behind her.
She spun round to see the sodden fox shaking the water off behind her. In a second Vulpes was galloping toward her, jaws slavering, just like the first fox she’d met outside Hyde Park. He bore down on her, paws sending arcs of mud and spray up behind him, tongue throwing saliva into the air alongside. Only, this time she wasn’t the naïve fairy that Harold had had to save. This time she knew what she had to do. Just as the fox was practically on top of her, she jumped to the side and held out her arms to summon the water up beneath her attacker. The surging river lifted Vulpes off his feet, taking him flying past Rowan toward the mouth of the waterfall. The fox howled, changing back into
Vulpes’s fairy form. He gave Rowan one final look of pure fury as he flew into the chasm below. Rowan ran over to the edge of the drop to peer through the cascading water down into the palace. Vulpes hit the pool in the floor of the cavern, before being swept down the underground river that led to who knew where. Beyond the river, she could see the foxes still doing battle. They caught sight of their master disappearing and took fright, racing after him down into the depths of the cave and away. Faces all turned up to Rowan, beaming with pride—Aiken, Olor, Harold, and of course, Rowan’s mother.
“He’s gone!” Rowan shouted down to her mother. “I’ll come back to get you!” But her voice was drowned out by the sound of the raging torrent of water.
Her mom clearly couldn’t hear what she was saying. Instead Rowan could see her waving a good-bye, her eyes glinting with tears.
“No! I can change back!” Rowan shouted, and she jumped and spun in the air, desperate to become a creature that could break back through the waterfall to her mother. But nothing was happening. She tried again and again, before finally crashing back to the ground.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry. I can’t do any more.”
She knew that her mom couldn’t hear her. She was talking more to herself now.
“Please forgive me.”
As Rowan gazed down to her mother, four small words spilled from her, almost without her realizing.
“I forgive you, Mom.”
Suddenly the mouth of the waterfall was shrinking, growing smaller and smaller. Or was she getting bigger?
• • •
“I forgive you,” Rowan repeated quietly to herself. The gushing river was now but a stream disappearing through a big crack in the earth. She peered desperately down into the crevice but could make out no figures beneath.
“Mom!” she yelled into the darkness, scrabbling at the hole to try to make it bigger.
“We’d better shut that up,” a voice said. “You never know what might fly in.”
Rowan turned to see a park keeper behind her, and leapt to her feet. The park keeper wasn’t much bigger than her. She wriggled her shoulder blades, but there was no sign of any wings. She was human again.
“You’re up early, I’ll give you that,” said the park keeper. “Some kids today have trouble getting out of their bedrooms. They don’t want to come to an old park full of trees and lakes. They just want the latest this and the hottest—”
“Thanks,” interrupted Rowan, “but . . . I have to get back home.”
“Suit yourself. Which way you headed?”
“Back into London. The smokiest bit.”
“Ah, not to worry. You’re always welcome back if you need to clear your head.”
Rowan took a deep breath and managed a smile.
“Why don’t you take the river? Lovely journey this time of the day.”
“Thank you. I might just do that.”
She walked back through Bushy Park in a daze, out past Hampton Court Palace toward the river. At the pier she found a riverboat captain untying his vessel. He beckoned to her to jump on.
“Welcome aboard The Cygnus, young lady.”
Rowan gave him a puzzled look as she walked along the gangplank. She sat herself right at the front of the boat as it began steaming off back down the river, the wind whistling through her hair. She reached inside her top and pulled out her pendant. There was the small wooden oak tree with an acorn at its heart. And behind her ear she found a small, downy black feather.
A robin fluttered down and perched next to her on the handrail.
“Harold?” she asked. Some people sitting nearby stared at her, but she wasn’t embarrassed. The robin cocked its head at her, then flew off downriver, toward the city. Rowan watched him leave. It couldn’t have been him. She shook her head clear. She was going home.
• • •
In the playground at the bottom of Rowan’s block of apartments, Jade, Jasmine, and Jessica sat on the swings, eating french fries and chicken wings as usual. A fry flew toward Rowan. Without looking she caught it and popped it into her mouth.
“Needs more ketchup,” she shouted, not even breaking stride. The three girls turned to watch her as she strolled into the building, their mouths open wide. Behind her Rowan could just hear Jade cry out. She turned to see Jade gagging as she tried frantically to brush something off her tongue.
“Urgh! Something. Just. Flew. In!”
The elevator in the building was working at last, and it sped Rowan to her floor. She paused by her front door, took a deep breath, and knocked. The door cracked open, stopped against the security chain.
“Pillow!” sighed Rowan.
“Hey, Snowman, where’ve ya been?” said Willow. “Dad’s been looking—”
But before she could finish, there was a scrabbling of the chain and the door was flung open wide. Rowan’s dad burst out and lifted Rowan into a giant bear hug.
“Oh, Rowan, I thought we’d lost you, too. I’m so sorry—”
Rowan gently stopped him.
“It’s all right, Dad. We’re going to be all right. I promise.”
He lowered her back down. Rowan leaned in close to her dad’s ear to whisper.
“She’s alive, Dad! And she loves you. She wanted me to tell you.”
“But . . .”
“Dad. We have to find a way to bring her back. . . .”
Rowan’s dad’s eyes opened wide, and he turned to hold Rowan gently by the shoulders.
“Come inside, Rowan. Tell me everything.”
He took each of his daughters by the hand. They stepped back into the apartment, where the morning sunshine was flooding in.
For everyone else in the block of apartments it was just a normal day. And if someone had come down the stairs at that moment, they would have seen a door closing slowly behind a father and his two daughters and imagined the same was true for them.
But it wasn’t.
For them, a very special day was just beginning.
Acknowledgments
As this is my first book, there are a number of people without whose support, encouragement, and wise counsel I would never have gotten this far.
So a huge thank you goes out to David Magee, Frank Cottrell Boyce, Nick Willing, Dan MacRae, Rosie Alison, Steve Sarossy, Sue Swift, Catherine Clarke, Kirsty Robinson and Nick Hill, who all gave me the confidence that I could be the one to tell this story. Paul Webster, Peter Speyer, Simon Stephenson, Tiffany Roy and Iris, whose early reads and advice gave me the courage to share it with the world.
My incomparable agent, Claire Wilson, at Rogers, Coleridge and White, who has been the best possible confidante and guide on this journey. The fantastic Michelle Kroes at CAA.
The team at Aladdin, but especially Emma Sector, who has had such faith in a story from halfway round the world. And our cover illustrator, Jori Van Der Linde, for the beautiful picture she has painted from my words!
My mum and dad, Lynda and John Clarke, without whom I would not exist, never mind the book. Richard and Hilary Bishop, who never questioned why I was writing about fairies in their attic.
And to the first-ever reader of Oakwing, my wife, Rachel Clarke—for whatever kind of achievement bringing these characters to life has been, it is truly nothing next to the life that she has given to our two beautiful daughters.
About the Author
Author photograph courtesy of the author
E. J. Clarke
Oakwing is Ed’s first book. It came from an idea that popped into his head and wouldn’t leave. He lives in North London and is married with two young daughters who would like to be fairies. He hopes this book will give them that chance. When he’s not writing about fairies, he works for a company that makes films and television programs.
Aladdin
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to histo
rical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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First Aladdin hardcover edition May 2017
Text copyright © 2017 by E. J. Clarke
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ISBN 978-1-4814-8191-5 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-4814-8192-2 (eBook)