by Lydia Deyes
I can’t tell him about those. Not yet, anyway.
I started to shake my head, then remembered one more thing.
“You were able to help me with the memory of the storm… could you help me stop dreams, too?”
Samuel furrowed his brow. “What kind of dreams?”
I told him about the recurring dream of the snake’s fang, crow’s feather, and wolf’s claw that turned to dust when I tried to touch them. I told him, too, about the more recent dream about the black smoke and the snake’s trail through it, and how upon inspection the trail became pawprints. When I was done, Samuel closed his eyes. After a pause, he spoke again.
“Fledgling sparrow, eyes of gold, broken in a tempest night. Darkness, thick as smoke, behold, incites an everlasting blight. The only hope against the scourge must brave a battle more than might. But should a victor soon emerge, the hero shall restore the light.”
Samuel opened his eyes. “That is the second reason I want to help you. It means this,” he continued, then repeated the same four sentences, word for word. I blinked.
“You said the same thing twice,” I said, confused.
Samuel stood up and stared straight into my soul. He glanced at his paws and muttered to himself, then seemed to remember I couldn’t hear him. “Young sparrow, you shouldn’t joke about these things.”
I faltered, thrown off by the sternness in his voice, which still resounded in my head. “I don’t know what you mean,” I managed to say. “What did I do wrong? You really said the same thing twice.”
“Right now, I’m speaking in my own language,” Samuel said. “It’s called Montin. When you first came into this room, you were speaking it, too. I thought perhaps you had learned it somewhere. But now, you’re telling me that it sounds the same to you?”
“The same as what?” I asked, not sure if he was playing a trick on me.
“Kisalan,” he replied. The voice echoing in my head sounded agitated. “The language of the songbirds and small forest mammals, which took decades for me to learn? The language your sister speaks?”
“I guess so? I don’t know.”
The old lynx sighed. “You have many gifts, Sheer. That prophecy… I think it refers to you. I don’t know exactly what your dreams mean, and I don’t know why you have this gift of language. Of one thing I’m sure, though. The darkness you’ve seen is a symbol of the evil that you must defeat, just like in the prophecy. The snake, crow, and wolf must be the enemies you will someday have to face. I’ll ensure that my scouts report any strange happenings regarding any of those creatures. Hopefully, you will have dreams that are more detailed in time. Dreams that can lead you to the evils and quench them before they grow too strong.”
I yawned. The night was at its peak by now, and so much had happened today, I felt overwhelmed. Finding a mysterious building with magic windows. Meeting my sister. Discovering a clue about my past. Learning that I could apparently speak and understand two languages…at this point, Samuel’s words barely registered in my mind.
“That’s enough for today,” Samuel said, jolting me awake. “You need rest. I’ll call your sister back and have her show you where you can sleep. Let’s talk more tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I was thankful for the promise of sweet, sweet sleep.
“Oh, but one thing first. Here.” I blinked and focused my eyes on his paw as he used his sharp claw to sever a tiny sliver of blue fabric off the larger piece tied around his neck. “You’re a member of the thirteenth floor now. The doors and windows will always open for you with my magic. And this special fabric signifies that you’re one of us. You’ll know that you’re safe from any predators that wear this color, and they’ll know that you’re a friend. You should ask a squirrel or mouse to help you tie it. Just tell them I sent you.”
“Thank you, Samuel,” I replied, grasping the fabric in my beak. My heart skipped a beat as I felt its rough texture against my tongue. I finally had a place where I belonged. I just needed not to mess this one up.
V
My head was throbbing when Violet returned to the room. She beckoned for me to follow her. A door opened for us on its own, and I wished I knew how it worked. I could ask her, but how would I understand the response?
Maybe I’ll ask Samuel later…
When we entered, though, all thoughts of my disability left my mind. The room was filled with shelves, all piled high with branches. Every sleeping bird in the room was some variety of sparrow. My sister gestured to an empty sprig.
“Will you stay here, too?” I asked, feeling weary and very alone.
In response, Violet landed on a nearby branch. I noticed scratches that perfectly matched where her toes touched the wood. It made me feel better to be close to my sister. Before I knew it, I’d drifted off to sleep. For the first time since I could remember, I had no dreams that night.
◆◆◆
Feeling extremely rested the next morning, I followed Violet out into the hall. We flew to an ornate archway, which led to a cavernous room in the center of the thirteenth floor. Inside was an enormous rectangular table, around and upon which sat a plethora of creatures. I was sure I’d never seen so many animals so close together, even before losing my memory. Most of them were birds fluttering around the room, but I also saw lynxes, foxes, and other mammals. I spotted wild cats, raccoons, badgers, and ferrets among them. The motion of all these animals was overwhelming, and I had to close my eyes to stop the room from becoming a spinning blur. When I opened my eyes more slowly, I adjusted to the chaos and took note of the details. Everyone wore some sort of blue fabric, and everyone was getting along. I was nervous at first, but none of the predators seemed remotely interested in having me for breakfast. Food was set before everyone: mostly roots, seeds, and berries, and fish or prepared meats for the carnivores. I wasn’t sure where the meat came from, but the energy in the room told me it certainly wasn’t from members of the community.
Across the way, I saw my hawk friend. He perked up when we made eye contact. His eyes bright, he shuffled his way over to me with a giant grin on his face. His wound had been cleaned and patched up by someone more professional. When he bent his head down and turned to eye me, I couldn’t help feeling amused. Guessing at what he wanted, I touched the top of his head with my own. Pleased, he jumped up, nodded to my sister, then hopped back to his own meal.
“Do you know him?” I asked Violet. When she shook her head, I wondered if he’d known about this place before we came. He’d encouraged me to investigate, after all. He seemed like a good bird.
“Your friend is very amusing,” I heard inside my head. I jumped, then turned to find Samuel behind me.
“You scared me!”
“I’m sorry Sheer, I didn’t mean to. It must be hard to have one of your senses missing, and I can’t pretend to fully understand. I’ll try not to startle you next time.” I nodded, not wishing to dwell on it. I picked at my food, still not used to so many different scents in one place. I tried to ignore the frequent glances I was getting from around the room. Why did my eyes have to look so different?
Now that I knew he was there, I felt the rumble of Samuel’s voice when he spoke again. “You may be deaf, but your other senses are strong. You were able to recognize your hawk friend from across the room before he saw you. Not many songbirds can say as much.”
I had, hadn’t I? “His wound was patched up. Do you have a healer?”
“Yes,” Samuel responded, his eyes twinkling. “My granddaughter Anna is the best you’ll ever meet.”
My heart lifted. Maybe I could put my limited knowledge of plants from my time with the squirrels to good use, and perhaps learn even more from her. The feeling sank quickly.
How will I learn anything more complicated than a plant’s general usage?
Forcing my thoughts to veer in another direction, I paused. “What’s his name?”
“Your hawk friend? His name is Barrie.”
“I wish I could’ve asked him that myself,”
I admitted, gulping down the last seed, “but how would he have told me? Or anyone else’s name, for that matter? I got lucky before when I met a squirrel named Hazel…”
“If you’re finished with your breakfast,” the lynx replied, turning towards me, “I can show you.”
◆◆◆
Curious, I followed Samuel out of the hall. He brought me to the same room where I’d first met him and padded over to the far wall. There, he picked up a dark rock, then what looked like a large, flat, cream-colored leaf.
“This is graphite,” he explained, “and this is parchment. Many, many years ago, I lived with humans. They use these to communicate with each other when speech would not suffice.”
“You lived with humans?”
“Yes,” he replied, pausing to make several marks on the parchment. “Now, the human written language is far too lengthy and complicated for many animals to find useful. It takes too long to write down simple ideas. I came up with a unique, simpler language and taught it to all who live here and were willing to learn. Even though I’ve taught myself to speak multiple languages, not everyone can do the same. Of course, you’ll have a much easier time talking to the other animals because of your gift of language, but you’ll still need a tool for understanding complex concepts and unique words like names. For the rest of the animals here on the thirteenth floor, a shared written language is a simple way to ensure everyone can communicate with each other. This marking here means…”
Then, to my dismay, he spoke plainly. I heard nothing in my head. “Um… Samuel? Could you repeat that?”
He did, the same way. When my face fell, he finally spoke in my head again. “I know it’s hard, Sheer, but you must realize that you cannot rely on my ability forever. And though the written language is a powerful tool, it’s not a tool everyone knows how to use, nor is it good for all situations. I’ll teach you to write, and I’ll speak in your head for a time, but you must learn to comprehend speech even when you have neither available to you. Do you understand?”
I hesitated, but as much as I wanted to avoid thinking about it, Samuel was right. Nodding slowly, I asked, “Can I try again?”
Samuel’s eyes brightened, and he sat up straight. Putting his paw on the marking, he spoke again. I studied his face, his mouth, the movement of his lips, but I still couldn’t grasp what he was saying. He wasn’t using exaggerated motions, as I’d grown accustomed to when talking to Hazel. He wasn’t nodding or shaking his head either, the two universal gestures I relied on so heavily when asking questions.
“I can’t do it,” I despaired. “I can’t understand what you’re saying.”
“It’s okay,” Samuel said, gingerly lifting my beak with his claw turned sideways. “This marking means ‘family.’ And I’m thinking that perhaps as we begin this journey of learning, it may be easier for you to learn from other birds, like your sister and your friend, until you have progressed more.”
I picked at a splinter on the floor. “Maybe.”
Samuel called out into the hall. A moment later, the door swung open again. I was still not quite used to all the magical elements of the thirteenth floor, but I didn’t have long to dwell on it. Both Violet and Barrie came into the room.
“This will be good for you as well,” Samuel said, his voice echoing in my head, even though his speech was directed at Barrie. I appreciated that. “You can learn the written language along with Sheer. I need both of you to help him,” he continued, turning to Violet as well, “by voicing out the words that I write and say. Speak naturally, without excess motions.” Finally, he faced me again. “Alright! Let’s get started.”
After Samuel wrote two characters on the parchment, Violet was the first to speak. I tried ever so hard to understand. All I could tell was that she seemed to say the same phrase more than once. I asked Samuel whether this was true.
“It’s odd hearing you switch between languages,” he admitted. “When you’re alone with me, you seem to speak my native tongue; yet, when you’re with others, you’re speaking your own.” I noticed his mouth remained still, and I wondered why he didn’t want to share this information with my friend or sister. Was this gift something to be ashamed of?
He shook his head, then continued to speak, this time out loud as well as in my mind. “Yes, she repeated her phrase. Do you know what she was saying?” I shook my head. “That’s okay,” he replied, “it will take time. Try watching Barrie say the same phrase.”
I felt closer to Barrie than to my sister. It was partly because of how strange it was not to be able to recall my own sibling, but mostly because we shared experiences. Both of us had been injured and could’ve died if left alone. Of course, I almost died multiple times even after being rescued, but that was something else entirely. At least I was safe, for now, from whatever might be targeting me. There had been no sign of fire so far, and that was good.
Yet, despite the deeper feeling of connection, watching Barrie was no better than watching Violet. He was simply speaking to me as if I could hear, and I felt my entire body droop in disappointment. I would never be able to learn. How could I? I tried anyway, and as he repeated the phrase, I tried to take note of the emotion expressed in his eyes. I did recognize it, but I couldn’t connect it with words. It was hopeless.
“Sheer, they were saying ‘thank you,’” Samuel told me when I shook my head again. “Would you like to try another phrase, or would you like to see the same one again?” He gave me no other option. I wanted to give up.
I let out a deep breath. Something about Samuel’s sincerity gave me just enough fuel to keep going, though not enough to get my hopes up. I opted to see the same phrase again and, already knowing what they were saying this time, tried to form a connection between the two birds to match their body languages and expressions with the words. I could see no distinct similarity. Several times I wanted to stop, but Samuel pushed me on. We cycled through multiple phrases, each one repeated twice by both my sister and friend, but none of them clicked. I was learning the written language bit by bit from Samuel’s scribblings before each spoken phrase, but I still felt more lost than ever. When we were tired and hungry, he finally drew the session to a close. Together, we wandered back into the great hall with the massive table.
At dinner, I was overwhelmed and lost. All around me were a couple hundred animals, involving themselves in conversation I couldn’t understand. Samuel wouldn’t speak inside my mind, and even if I’d known enough of the written language to have a discussion, everyone was so caught up in their own conversations that no one was interested in me. Even Violet and Barrie were having a lively chat while I picked at my food. I felt completely alone, despite being surrounded by others. When I was finished with my medley of grass seeds and berries, I left the table without a word to anyone and retreated to my perch in the sparrow room. Even the door seemed reluctant to open for me.
VI
That night, I had another dream. I sat on my perch in the dark, listening to the sounds of the building and city. The door creaked, the eaves settled, and a muted drone of human life outside came muffled through the window.
Is this what it sounds like all of the time?
Then there was a whistling. It was like a strange and unfamiliar breeze. Different, somehow, from the breeze I’d heard in my dreams before. The sound rose and fell in waves that chilled me to the bone.
I rose and followed the sound, flying silently past all of the sleeping sparrows. Down the hall, left, right, and right again. The volume and pitch intensified as I drew closer to the source. When I made it to Samuel’s room, the old lynx was sound asleep, despite the howling. The strange wind rattled his window panes, screaming to come in. The sky was dark beyond the clear glass, filled with dense fog that was darker than night. It moved and frothed like liquid. When I approached, the window swung open of its own accord. I was sure the wind would rush in, knocking over everything in its path, but… nothing stirred. It whooshed and howled, but I felt nothing at all.
/> Then, with no control over my actions, I began to sing. The language, strange to my ears, flowed from my throat like a beautiful stream. Somehow, I was singing color. It was the most colorful song, the most beautiful song, and it lifted my heart. Then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The wind was gone, and the sky outside shone a dull blue, with warm light radiating from the city itself. I spotted a star in the sky, and I heard nothing more than the gentle creaking of the old building.
◆◆◆
I woke up early, refreshed and ready to take on the day. I didn’t know what to make of my dream, but I was glad it was so much nicer than the nightmares that had haunted me since waking in the burning tree. After breakfast, I flitted over to Samuel’s room to see if he had anything planned for the day.
“I thought we could go outside while you focus your studies on reading expressions and body language,” he said. “I believe it may help if you’re not trying to learn to write at the same time. We can explore a bit and meet some new animals neither of us knows.”
Streaks of rain made rivers on the dusty window. Despite the promise that my flashback had been conquered, the thought of falling water still filled me with dread. And besides, how could I know I wouldn’t still be a target for fires out there, outside of Samuel’s wards? “Can we do something else?”
He looked, too. “Ah. Well, it’s only drizzling. You can ride on my back if you don’t want to fly…” Upon turning back to see my expression, his eyes softened. “Okay, Sheer. We can stay inside today. Would you still be alright with learning expressions from animals you don’t know?”
I nodded, relieved that we wouldn’t need to go out in the rain. Besides, though Barrie was my friend and Violet my sister, I didn’t know them very well either. To call them complete strangers wasn’t much of a stretch, and I had nothing against meeting even more new animals. Still, I worried today would be just as unproductive and frustrating as yesterday. Pushing the negative thoughts out of my mind, I focused instead on the colorful song from my dream, drawing inspiration from it.