by Lydia Deyes
I tilted my head, confused. “What caused the change?”
Nyoka stared at the ground for several minutes, then met my eyes again. “I don’t know where it came from; a strange, cloudy darkness just appeared in front of me. It looked like black smoke, but heavier, settling and crawling on the ground. It whispered to me with a thousand voices I couldn’t understand, but it felt powerful. It felt good. I approached it, and… it went into me. That’s when I got this knowledge, this power.”
It took me a moment to comprehend her, but her tendency to use excessive paw motions and dramatic facial expressions helped, and I was able to piece it together. Once realization settled, my heart pounded in my chest.
What if it’s the same smoke I’ve seen in my dreams?
Nyoka shifted, and I turned to watch her speak again. “I liked it at first,” she said, stretching out her paw and admiring her claws. “I felt strong, independent, like nothing could stop me.” She looked into my eyes. “But then it started to take over. I think it had more control over my actions than I did. At that point, I was scared. But I couldn’t fight it.” The rat tucked her face into her paws. She continued talking, but I couldn’t understand anymore. All I knew was that she was ashamed.
I relaxed. Somehow, Nyoka was free from the grasp of whatever had been controlling her. I drew closer to her and awkwardly wrapped my wing around her shoulders. “It’s alright now,” I said. “Whatever it was, it’s gone. You still have time to undo all the things you’ve done.”
When Nyoka raised her head, I remembered the troubles I’d experienced before the thirteenth floor. “I told you about the fires… Samuel, my mentor, thinks someone was targeting me. Was that you?”
The rat shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t have any ability to track someone or send fire their way.”
I sighed. The danger was still out there somewhere, and I wasn’t sure how I’d ever find it. I could solve one problem now, though. “How can we free the other slaves?” I asked Nyoka.
“I think you already know how,” she replied.
I thought for a while. “For my mother, all I did was say her name.”
“Twice. You said it twice,” she said, holding up two digits on her paw.
“Is that all? But do you even know all of their names? How will we rescue all of them?”
“There is another way,” Nyoka replied. “You used it on Amery. I call it the … fruit.” I had no idea what name she’d given the fruit, but she wouldn’t know the written language, so I didn’t bother to ask. The name didn’t matter anyway. I remembered which fruit had brought Amery out of her trance: the one I’d tried to use to harm Nyoka when she was still a snake.
“The fruit? How?”
“I had to put some sort of safety into this world. Just in case something went wrong with the potions I used on myself. When I controlled the minds of the slaves, I forbade them from eating it, but it should still work.”
This was getting more and more confusing. “Wait, what do you mean, you had to have it here? Did you create this world?”
Nyoka nodded. “The darkness that went inside me was very powerful. With its help, I could control and shape matter, make an entire miniature world exist in this cave. I lured unsuspecting creatures into it and morphed their bodies to all be the same diminutive forms. It felt good to have so many under my rule, even if they weren’t willing. Too good.”
I closed my eyes, trying to understand all of this. It was starting to make more sense, but I still had questions. “If you’ve already turned back into a rat, then why are the slaves still in their cursed form?” I asked, opening my eyes again.
“Their form, my own, and Amery’s submission are all from potions infused with dark magic, but different varieties. They all needed to be renewed at different intervals — my own with every few sunsets, Amery’s with each phase of the moon. Theirs, though, only needed to be applied once in a lifetime.” As she said this, the ground rumbled. Dust fell from crevices far above, and the mouse hanging by its tail swung stiffly. “We need to move quickly,” Nyoka said, jumping to her paws. “Now that my power is gone, I think the world might be collapsing. Let’s go!” She scurried out the door, and I flew to follow.
When we emerged from the hollow tree, the light plants lining the cave walls were flickering and fading. Barrie and Samuel had joined my mother, sister, and Amery. Samuel stood on three paws, keeping his injured leg off the ground. All of them looked at me with matching expressions of concern.
“Sheer! There you are! Something’s happening… what do we do?” Barrie asked. “And who is that rat?”
“It’s Nyoka,” I replied. “She’s not an enemy anymore. I don’t have time to explain right now. The world is collapsing, and we need to save all of the slaves and get out of here. Can all of you help get the…” I looked helplessly at Nyoka, and she repeated its name for my friends. “Right,” I continued. “That fruit, from the trees? It’s the spiky orange one that fell on Amery. If we feed it to the slaves, they’ll be freed from the spell.”
We all came up with a system. Without commands to guide them, the cursed slaves had gathered by the water and sat idly as dust fell like rain with every tremble of the ground; we would have to take the fruit to them. Samuel bit down hard on the shell until its insides oozed out, then Barrie carried it over to the riverside. From there, Violet, Reika, Amery and I filled our beaks with the soft fruit and distributed it to the slaves, while Barrie went back for another heavy haul. Nyoka scurried across the grounds, finding and freeing the slaves whose names she knew. As we worked, more and more animals were freed and our team grew exponentially. Most of them were small mammals or birds like squirrels, mice, sparrows, and pigeons, but a couple of foxes and feral cats were there as well. Once we had a rhythm going, it didn’t take long until there were more animals helping than enslaved. Soon all of them were free, back in their original forms.
“Come, everyone!” Nyoka said, standing midway up the stairs etched into the tree so all the animals could see and hear her between tremors. “Follow me, there’s a back way out!”
Nyoka led the way to a cluster of thick grass at one end of the massive underground cave that housed this strange world, and pushed the stems aside to reveal a hidden tunnel barely large enough for Samuel to squeeze through. She paused when she reached it and turned to me. “I had nearly forgotten that this was here,” she admitted. “It’s been so long since I came down this way.” The ground shook again, and rocks cascaded down the cave wall.
“Let’s get out of here,” I told her, “and leave all those memories behind.”
The rat nodded, and the edge of her mouth turned up in a smile. She turned and scrambled up the sloped path, leading the way out.
Crow
XIV
When we emerged on the surface, the light stung my eyes. I didn’t realize just how dim it had been in the tunnel. As I looked around, I smelled the soft, fresh grass and wildflowers. The rest of the animals popped out of the tunnel single file, then spread out, swarming like ants and relishing in the fresh air. It was good to be back in the open again, this time on purpose. It was time to go home.
Some of the enslaved animals scattered, but most had nowhere to go and decided to follow us. Reika, Amery, and the dozens of animals who’d been freed from their cursed forms didn’t know which way to turn, even if they’d been to the thirteenth floor before. It had been too long since they were first trapped underground. Thankfully, we had a team of navigators — if Samuel or I faltered, Violet or Barrie could identify landmarks and get us back on track. The landslide gave us a nice slope to climb out of the ravine. After that, we stayed on the side with the meadow. It was slow going, since Samuel was injured, but I was more than happy to move at his pace. I was just glad he was still with us.
Violet and Nyoka helped me find the right herbs to mix into a poultice to help prevent infection where Samuel’s bone had broken through his skin. Barrie helped me wrap his l
eg with fresh leaves and strands of milkweed stalk once we came across a patch, which would hopefully prevent further damage until we could get back to the thirteenth floor and the more advanced medical supplies.
That first night, we rested under the moonless sky, staring at the stars until we fell asleep. No wolves haunted my dreams. When I woke to ground adorned with tiny droplets of dew, I savored the warmth of my family and friends.
For most of the journey, Amery rode on Samuel’s back. During breaks, my mother and I put aside time to help her learn to fly. Reika seemed to enjoy the opportunity to teach another young one, since she’d missed that crucial time in my life. She knew all sorts of exercises I wouldn’t have thought of: jumping off a low tree branch, balancing on a swaying stalk, or hopping from rock to rock without touching the ground. At first Amery was clumsy and often fell, but she eventually mastered flying, landing, and taking off. Her skill grew, and she was soon a brilliant flier. I watched Violet and Amery’s shadows race along the ground and dance in the fields as they flew together.
After many long days of traveling, when the moon was over halfway full, we finally reached the outskirts of the city. Home was within sight.
Climbing the stairs to the thirteenth floor was a challenge for Samuel, but soon we’d arrived safely. My mentor arranged for a feast to welcome the newcomers, then immediately went to see Anna. We all hoped she’d be able heal his broken leg. I stayed with him in the medical room until it was time for the feast.
When I entered the great hall in the middle of the thirteenth floor, a mouse that worked in the kitchen stood up and looked at me, getting my attention. “Someone donated a gift of rare sweet berries for your meal, Sheer,” he told me as I approached. “Would you like them along with your seeds?”
“Yes, thanks! Do you know who it was?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I just heard about it from…” Here, he said someone’s name, but I would need him to write it down. Since the commotion was growing and he needed to get back to serving the feast, I didn’t bother to ask.
“Alright,” I replied. “Could you thank them for me, then?” He nodded, then scurried off to the back room.
It had been a very long journey, and I was exhausted. Once I polished off my seeds and the delicious berries, I excused myself and left the merrymaking to rest and ease my growing headache.
To my frustration, I was unable to drift off to sleep. When everyone else had dozed off, I flew to the herb storage and grimaced as I chewed on some chamomile, hoping it would help, then returned to the sparrow room. I shifted on my feet, shuffled my wings, and changed my head position all night long. When the sun’s rays filtered in through the window, I still hadn’t slept.
I remained on my perch, anxious for the sleep I so desperately needed. My stomach hurt, but not from hunger. I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to shut out the light and fall asleep. My friends and family were probably worried, but no one bothered me.
I was unable to sleep, unable to eat, for two whole days. My entire body ached. The last night, I forced myself to get up and walk to Anna’s room, since I couldn’t fly at that point. I had to know what was wrong with me.
I don’t know how far I got before I collapsed.
My mother, my sister, Amery, or Barrie, whose room was next to ours, must have heard me fall. I vaguely felt myself being lifted by familiar talons and carried off.
At some point, I was brought to Anna’s room. I felt like I was lying on my belly, on a bed of grass or moss. That was when the dreams started — or were they hallucinations?
The first was a view of the room from overhead, as if I were a spider in the corner. I immediately noticed I could hear, just like I could in my visions and dreams, though this perspective was new. Rain tapped against the window pane, and wind howled outside. I recognized the lynx healer herself, as well as many other animals standing around a bed. On the bed, a sparrow lay with his wings and claws tucked tightly against his body. It took me a moment to realize the bird was… me. The bird was — I was — breathing irregularly, tossing my head back and forth. Was I dreaming? Samuel was there, talking so quietly to Anna that I couldn’t hear him over the rain. My sister, Violet, and my mother, Reika, stood at my side. They looked worried. Amery got along well with them, so I wasn’t surprised to see her there, too. Barrie was pacing back and forth from the door to the window, sometimes on his feet, sometimes in the air.
Suddenly, Reika jumped up. “The prophecy! Don’t you remember? The one about the healing tree with all its different fruits. I used to sing it to you, Violet. Barrie, you must have heard it, too. Maybe it holds a clue?”
“How so?” Violet asked.
“Remember the first verse?” Reika responded. “Over the mountain and into the sun, two song sparrows are flying along. They follow a falcon, quite a strange friend; going toward what seems to them, the world’s end.”
That’s not how the prophecy went, I thought. What kind of bad nursery rhyme is this? But as soon as the thought crossed my mind, it was gone again, and the dream continued on.
“Perhaps we are those song sparrows,” my mother was saying. “Barrie is almost like a falcon, I mean, technically a hawk, but these things aren’t based on technicalities. We must fit the prophecy! We are meant to go to the tree of healing!”
“Maybe you’re right,” Violet responded, nodding thoughtfully. “The last part of the third verse… ‘they have to save a friend of theirs, whose life depends upon apples and pears,’ seems pretty accurate.”
“I agree,” Barrie added, “but I only hope we can get the fruit in time to heal Sheer.”
“But there are only two sparrows in the song,” Amery interjected. “There are three of us.”
“Oh, you’re right!” Violet said. “How do we know who is supposed to go?”
“Amery, I think you should go instead of me,” Reika suddenly said. “I’m getting too old for this, and I want to stay here by my son’s side.”
The two young sparrows piped up together. “That works.” Violet, slightly older than Amery, turned to Barrie. “We’ll all go, together. But how will we know where to go? Does the song say anything about where to find the mountain?”
Barrie shook his head. “No, the prophecy doesn’t say, but I know where to find it. My mother showed me once. Follow me! We should leave now, before he gets any worse.” Despite their confidence, I was confused. This doesn’t sound like any prophecy I’ve ever heard of, I thought. If it’s even real, how do they know it’s meant for them? Why would apples and pears save anyone? What is the rest of the prophecy?
Before I had a chance to ponder the subject any longer, the dream shifted. I was now watching a very old crow. A dark shroud of mysterious smoke furled around him. He had one good eye; the other was cloudy, focused on something far off to his left. One of the toes on his right foot was completely missing, and his feathers were ruffled and frayed. He opened his chipped beak, and his throat shook with a warbled, crackly voice. He looked oddly familiar.
Was this the crow that attacked me after I left the squirrels?
When he spoke, I was surprised he had a thick accent. “You’ve given ‘im the poisoned berries, yes?”
“Yes, sir, Spike,” a gander answered, the dream’s scope shifting to show the new creature. The smoke curled towards him but didn’t envelop him. “I have done as you commanded. Please, may I now see my mate and goslings, as you promised?”
The crow shook his head vigorously, flinging a line of saliva through the air, which landed on the gander’s beak. The latter shuddered but retained his composure. “No!” Spike shouted. “Not ‘til the sparrow is dead. Y’see, Gander, I’ve got to answer to the grea’ Nivek. If I fail… if ya fail… neither of us will e’er see the light of day again. Forget all my other plans; we’d both be dead. Ya hear? Ya’ll stay here, with me, ‘til it’s done.”
Nivek? I had no more time to wonder about who this great Nivek was. The scene changed, and I once again saw my fri
ends and sister. I watched them fly toward a mountain so tall, most of it was covered in mist. Then the vision did something strange: I saw two things overlaid at once, as if both were slightly transparent. I was still watching the two sparrows and hawk, but I now saw another snapshot of myself, too.
I could hear myself moaning in pain, but the voice sounded like it belonged to a stranger. I appeared to be suffering from a seizure. From my mouth bubbled foamy saliva; my body was shaking violently. It was strange to be looking down at myself. I felt disconnected from my body. I felt nothing, but I watched myself writhe and squirm as if I were in incredible pain. That scene faded, and the images of Violet, Amery, and Barrie became clearer.
XV
“Wow,” Violet exclaimed when they neared the mystical mountain. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”
“Few have,” Barrie replied. “They have to know exactly when and where to look. It’s usually covered with fog so thick, it’s impossible to make out. You can only see it for an hour a day, just as the sun is rising.”
Amery exhaled. “Amazing!”
“My mother knew another hawk who just happened to chance upon the mountain at the right time of day after a long and unsuccessful hunt,” Barrie said.
“You’re lucky to have a mother with such good connections,” the older sparrow commented.
“Sheer’s lucky to have you as a friend,” the younger one added.
“I suppose so,” the hawk replied. “I hope we can save him. He’s a good friend to me.”
As I watched them in silence for a while, I found it difficult to remember who these animals were. Was my memory fading? I couldn’t even remember ever meeting the older sparrow, though the younger one seemed familiar for some reason. Was it her voice? I could no longer recall her name. Thankfully, I still remembered Barrie, but… how had I met him? And who was this Sheer they were talking about? I certainly didn’t know him. What was happening to me?