“And then, you’ll no longer be...May. You’ll have your family, a whole new life. You won’t need me anymore.”
“Of course, I will,” she soothed, squeezing him so tightly that his feathers molted. “I’ll always need you, and we’ll stay together. Forever.”
A crystal drop leaked from Swig’s eye. “Let’s find that palace and turn you back into a princess.”
***
King Ezrek sat upon his throne, pondering the misery and dullness of life. He held court every day. His doors stayed open, but no one entered. Years had passed since anyone sought his guidance regarding the laws of the kingdom or submitted a petition for his approval and signature. Still, he waited, hoping someone would arrive with news that would stir his soul.
The room dimmed as the hours slogged by. He held out his hands, ready to resort to studying his skin, when a parrot entered the throne room. A teen girl followed, no larger than the bird, and stranger yet, dressed like a pirate.
King Ezrek wondered whether his misery had finally ended. But not because he found the visitors amusing. His face paled. “Am I dead?”
“I should hope not,” said Swig. “We got here as quickly as we could.”
May stepped closer, until she stood at the foot of the throne. “Your highness,” she said. “We’ve come to report an enchantment, one that has been used against you.”
Blood flowed through the king’s heart—warming parts that had given up beating—as May repeated what she’d overheard at the crone’s house, everything except for her given name. After absorbing the tale, King Ezrek closed his eyes and squeezed his forehead.
“Are you the girl that the crone hid in the flour sack?”
May smiled. “Yes! You just need to say my name.”
The king opened his eyes. “I’ve dreamed of meeting my child every day since Isra’s death. But we have a dilemma. I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”
“Allow me to help,” said Swig. He flew to the king and perched himself on his shoulder and then whispered in his ear.
The king’s thin lips stretched into a smile. He knelt before the girl and shook her hand with his forefinger and thumb. “I am honored to meet you...Maya.”
A dome of mist formed around her.
She felt her hand being pulled away until forced to let go. “Father!”
The air grew hot and humid.
She couldn’t breathe.
Her body tingled as the mist spread higher and then wider, blinding her eyes with rainbows and deafening her ears with the dolphins’ song. Moments later, she stepped forward, gasping for air, as the mist evaporated behind her.
Swig and King Ezrek replied with gasps of their own.
She stood before them as Maya. Tall and regal, dressed in ivory silks corded with silver and gold. Her hair lay smooth across her shoulders, rich and chocolatey, the way Queen Isra’s had been.
“Welcome home, princess,” King Ezrek said, wrapping her in a fatherly embrace.
Swig, still perched on the king’s shoulder, leaned forward and did the same.
***
The kingdom transformed, starting with the palace’s inner heart.
Swig flew from sconce to sconce with sprays of wildflowers while Maya lit the candles. With renewed strength from his daughter’s return, the king bounced from room to room, brushing away cobwebs, unrolling carpets, and hanging tapestries.
“Ouch!” Maya’s hand dashed to her forehead. It was the second time she’d knocked it on a low lamp. Being able to reach things others took for granted required adjustment. But she never expected to be so tall she’d need to stoop from harm’s way.
Swig flew to her and tucked a sprig of pink heather behind her ear.
The smile that stretched across Maya’s face was dazzling. The parrot shrank under the gaze of her iris-colored eyes.
“What’s wrong, Swig?”
“Nothing, my dear. I just—I always knew you were lovely. Now it’s magnified.”
Maya pinked, rubbing the tender spot where she’d bumped her head.
A third voice sounded through the hall. “May? Swig?”
Heads turned to the doorway where a young man stood, his eyes wild as they darted between the parrot and the princess. “I reckoned I heard yer voices.” He stepped carefully as he scanned the ground below him. “Where’s May?”
“Daniel.”
He looked up and froze, realizing he’d been addressed by the princess. That voice. It was like May’s, only a touch deeper and more amplified.
His breath quickened. He knew that pout, that curve of cheek. He swallowed. He recognized her eyes, and the daggers inside meant for him. “I’ve found ye to take ye back to th’ crew.” Lowering his head he added, “And to say I’m sorry.”
Maya continued to glare at him from across the hall.
“Haven’t ye missed us?”
“My name’s Maya. I am no longer a pirate.”
Daniel looked her up and down, his eyes grazing her figure. “Ye’ve always been a lady, ye know. It’s just easier to see that now.” He grinned. “Now that we’re of a similar size—”
Maya walked toward him. She stopped, looking him in the eyes for the first time, as a person of regular size. “Now, what? You mean, we’d be able to have relations between a man and woman—of the physical kind?”
The muscles of Daniel’s jaw twitched ever so slightly. “How else would it have worked? Small as a pup, ye were.”
She crossed her arms. Having been a pirate herself, she knew what fueled their motivations. “No doubt you’ve heard I’m a princess. With treasures. My father has more gold than can be used to button all the coats of your crew.”
“Aye, so I’ve heard.” Daniel, too, had stumbled upon the crone on his way to the palace. The legend was true, the magic of Sprite Island, the reason the captain had wanted to keep May hidden for himself. And why he’d trusted Daniel with her charge. “What of it?”
“Don’t ye be playin’ with me—” Maya’s hands flew to her lips. Her cheeks burned at how pirate-like her outburst had been. She didn’t know which was worse—having been small or having been a pirate.
After a slow breath, she began again. “I’m finally where I belong—where I came from. Did the captain put you up to this?”
Daniel’s face fell. All but the scar to the left of his lip sagged. The Water Lily would sail at sundown. There wasn’t much time left.
“D’ye think yer better than me now? Just say so, and I’ll never bother ye again.”
He’d barely finished speaking when he felt a hand grab the back of his shirt. His front collar dug into his throat.
“Is this pirate upsetting you, daughter?”
Daniel reached around to release himself from King Ezrek’s grasp. His hand looped through a tasseled drapery cord. Before he could remove it, Swig pounced, landing on Daniel’s head.
Feathers, fabric, and bits of hair fell to the floor as the parrot shredded the headscarf with his beak.
King Ezrek twisted the cord and looped it around Daniel’s other hand, securing it with a handcuff knot that tightened the more the pirate tried to resist.
Maya’s heart hammered. Instead of standing by while her father and best friend protected her, she jumped into the brawl. Dodging Daniel’s kicks, she pinned down his legs while Swig distracted him with more jabbing.
King Ezrek looped a second drapery cord around Daniel’s boot, twisting and tying until both ankles were cuffed.
Groaning, Daniel lay still.
Swig stopped pecking and wiped his beak with a wing.
Maya’s chest heaved, her lungs gulping for air. She watched as the king dragged Daniel away, seeing herself with her mind’s eye. What had she become? She’d left pirate life behind. She’d reunited with her father. She’d changed her clothes, her speech, her destiny.
Had she failed to abandon her pirate heart? Was she unable to forgive?
“Whatever ye were meant to be,” Daniel said, battered and bound. “T
he pirates were a part of that.”
Maya said nothing in reply. She was a princess, the heir to the Kingdom of Sprite Island, who would someday be queen.
Surely, she’d forgive Daniel. But not before he missed his ride home.
Morning and the Moon
(A Fable)
A shiny black rat, living in a starry night sky, drowsily crept along to the sky’s center where the moon sat still. The rat sniffed the air, then gently brushed the moon with soft whiskers before stopping to let out a big, loud yawn. It was nighttime which meant that the moon was now fully grown. The rat sniffed at the air again, this time while looking up at the white-gray ball. It smelled like Muenster but looked more like Swiss with its bumps and craters, for the moon was made of cheese and the rat was ready to eat.
Nibble after nibble, the rat munched her way round and round, around the edge of the moon until it was small enough to fit between her paws. She sat back on her hind legs and patted her tummy as she finished the last few morsels of moon. More awake now, the rat stretched herself out from nose to tail before continuing on her way across the sky. Night had half passed and her work was only half done.
Filled with energy from the moon cheese, the rat began her next task of drawing out the sun. She peeked behind the curtain at the other end of the sky where the sun hid warm and bright. She wrapped her long dark tail in a noose around the sun so she could drag it to where the moon had been. Pulling and pulling until quite out of breath, the rat towed the sun into place. Her work was finished. And that was how she came to be called Morning.
Four animals lived in the sky, and all had work that needed to be completed every day. Morning disposed of the moon while the stars still shown and drew in the sun so that the stars could rest. Each day she nodded as she passed by the bright-eyed Midday, a cheerful yellow canary who guided the sun to its noontime position in the sky. Midday greeted his friend Afternoon, an easygoing lady basset hound whose task it was to track down the stars so they could light the sky when the sun went away. Once the stars were in place, Afternoon barked loudly to let Night the owl know it was time to tuck in the sun.
Each night Morning woke up to find that the moon had grown back again. She ate all the moon cheese to make room for the sun. Then Midday could do his work, followed by Afternoon and Night.
Yet, something bothered Morning. The more she thought about it, the bother grew and grew; until, finally she twitched her nose and asked herself, “Why is it that I have two tasks whereas the others only have one? Midday flaps his wings to guide the sun. Afternoon uses her keen senses to round up the stars. Night must only put the sun back behind its curtain. But I must eat up the moon and then pull out the sun with my tail, she huffed. “It’s not fair that I should have to do more work than everyone else.”
One night Morning decided that she would not eat the moon cheese. She walked past the moon without so much as a sniff.
“Today,” she chittered to herself, “I will pull out the sun and do no more. I will have only one chore—just like the birds and the dog.”
Behind the curtain, the rat wrapped her tail around the sun and pulled. For some reason it was more difficult to move the sun than ever before. Morning would have run out of time to complete her task had it not been for Midday who helped get the sun as close to the moon as possible.
Midday looked at the moon with interest and concern. This was something new to him because the moon was always gone before his shift began. What's more, the moon was in the way of the path he took to where the sun needed to be by noon.
Morning scurried off in a huff, more tired than usual, leaving Midday to deal with this problem alone. Delayed by having to move the sun around the moon before taking his usual route, Midday was not ready before Afternoon arrived.
“Help me!” he squawked. “Can’t you see that the sun is not yet ready?”
Afternoon stared at Midday, wondering what could have happened to make her cheerful friend so tart. Not used to this type of work, Afternoon watched the canary frantically flap his wings for a few minutes to see how it moved the sun forward along its path. She tried to copy the flapping with her front paws, but this did not help to move the sun any faster. Eventually, Midday finished his work and went on his way unhappy and exhausted.
The hound, once alone, sat with her head in a spin. Midday’s bad temper confused her, though she too was behind.
“Oh, no!” she remembered. “The stars—they’re not found!”
In a panic, the hound rushed through the sky. Her frantic search startled the stars, causing some to twinkle before it was time.
Surprised by the twinkling, troubled, upset, Afternoon threw her head back and barked a cry, which she followed with a whimper. Her bark signaled Night to come out too soon.
The owl opened its wings and flew to Afternoon. After studying the sky, he understood that all the trouble started because the moon was still out. Night tucked the sun behind its curtain and waited for Morning. Since Afternoon had only been able to find a third of the stars, the sky was much darker than it should have been.
Night spoke kind words to the hound. “You tried to help the canary and so you did not have time to give your own best work. Rest now. Stars will need to be found again tomorrow.”
Soothed by Night’s kind words, Afternoon thanked the owl and left feeling much better.
Night nodded, tucked his wings behind his back, and waited for Morning.
The rat felt something was wrong when she woke to far fewer twinkling stars. She walked across the night sky as she did every other day, but she noticed that the moon appeared nearer, somehow. As she continued walking, her eyes grew wide. Her moon was not closer than before; it was twice its normal size.
Morning sniffed. The thought of eating two days’ worth of cheese made her stomach feel sick.
Night had also noticed the moon’s double size. He hooted to her gently on his way out. “I have no talent for eating cheese and would help you if I could—the same way Afternoon was unable to help Midday move the sun, though she tried. Two days of work will not get done in one, but if everyone does what they are able to do, things can be normal again soon.”
Night moved on before Morning could respond, but she understood his meaning.
Morning thought about how to fix the moon. She couldn’t eat all of it, but if she ate only half it would just grow back to the same two-moon size tomorrow.
The rat munched and nibbled at the moon until only one quarter of it remained, forming a crescent-shaped slice. She figured that tomorrow it would only grow back to a one-and-a-half-sized moon. Then, the next day she would be able to eat all of it since a one-and-a-half-sized moon is the same as three quarters of the double moon.
Morning was happy about figuring this out, and also because the extra moon cheese made her feel more energetic, though she was fuller than usual. She pulled out the sun on time, fitting it snuggly near the crescent shaped moon. The canary showed up and cocked his head to the side, relieved that less of the moon blocked his path to guide the sun to noon.
“I got three quarters of the moon out of your way so that you can do your work better today,” explained Morning.
Midday chirped his thanks.
“Not only that,” continued the rat, “but I am filled with energy from the extra moon cheese. My tail is still wrapped around the sun. I will help pull the sun around what’s left of the moon with my tail while you flap your wings. Together, we can get the sun back on path so that you can finish your task before Afternoon comes.”
And so they did.
Midday finished on time just as Afternoon arrived. The hound was able to round up the stars before Night came to tuck in the sun. The next day passed almost the same as any other day, except that Morning once again felt a little too full from the extra moon cheese.
The following day, Morning woke up to a regular moon, white and gray. She thanked the stars for their twinkling and thanked the moon for its cheese.
Night looked
at her kindly, with tears in his eyes. “Thank you, Morning, our dear rat, for all that you do. You’ve learned, I hope, that we can’t start our days or our nights without you.”
Morning blushed and nodded, and finished her cheese. After rolling out the sun, she smiled up at the canary who later greeted the hound with his song.
This cheerfulness passed on from Afternoon to Night.
About the Author
Chess Desalls is an author of award-winning YA fiction.
For more information about upcoming books, please visit www.chessdesalls.com.
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Novels by Chess Desalls
Travel Glasses (The Call to Search Everywhen, #1)
Insight Kindling (The Call to Search Everywhen, #2)
Time for the Lost (The Call to Search Everywhen, #3)
Darker Stars (The Song of Everywhen, #1)
Novellas by Chess Desalls
Glistens (Glistens, #1)
Wrapped in the Past
Lantern (Lantern, #1)
Beacon (Lantern, #2)
Torch (Lantern, #3)
Flash Tales Page 4