by Paul Kidd
Lorenzo gave a sharp wail of dismay. He flung himself through the door and frantically began twirling valves and beating out braziers with his hat. Luccio watched the process from the safety of the door and drew his brows into a genteel frown.
"Well?"
"Well what?" Lorenzo burned fingertips as he rescued a pot of foaming liquid from the top of an oil burner.
"What are the answers to my four questions?"
"To the first-none of your business. No, it should not be leaking. And no, it isn't dangerous."
A metal sphere burst with a thunderous bang; chemicals lashed across the room, chewing into the stonework wherever they chanced to land. Luccio shook pieces of smoking shrapnel from the crown of his hat, and used a rapier blade to clear himself space upon a chair.
"I see. And the cherry smell?"
Emerging from the wreckage with a heavy sigh, Lorenzo glumly contemplated the ruin of his pipes and tubes, vats and valves.
"It's from over there. The igniter chemicals for the experiment." The young scientist propped his cheek on his chin. "They don't want me using chemicals in the guest rooms, so I disguised the volatiles with the essence of cherry."
Luccio leaned back in his chair with comprehension dawning in his eyes.
"Aaaaah. And might local vermin have… eaten this concoction?"
"I suppose they may have." Lorenzo swept broken plumbing from his tabletop with a great, almighty clang. "Why do you ask?"
"Just curious."
There was a brisk rap at the door and Luccio, stepping through smoldering debris, swept the portal open with a bow.
"The volcanology emporium… may we help you?"
Bent almost in two, Luccio found himself eye to eye with a petite, freckle-spattered girl. She replied with a hurried little curtsy and a nervous glance left and right along the empty palace hall.
"Greetings, my lord." The girl's spectacles were blank sheets of reflected window light. "I'm looking for a Lomatran."
"Faith, then you have found one." Luccio made his most elaborate of genuflections. "Did madam have anything particular in mind?"
"An idiot with a big drawing pad?"
"Madam, I do believe we can help you." The lanky nobleman ushered his guest in through the door. "Lorenzo-it's for you!"
Stalking into the ruined apartment, Miliana spared a glance at the steaming scars gouged into the fine wood paneling and declined to make a comment. She lifted up her hems, stepped across a tangle of broken pipes, and went in search of a fool.
She found him on the floor, frenziedly decanting a vile cherry-colored liquid into a big glass jar. Lorenzo caught sight of her, instantly tried to leap to his feet, and banged his head painfully on the underside of the table.
"It's you!"
"So I'm told." There were times when Miliana's spectacles gave her a stare like a basilisk. "Does Lady Ulia know you're brewing cherry fondant in her good guest rooms?"
"Um… well… yes…" Lorenzo's skills at falsehood would have done discredit to a wingless fruit fly. "It all comes off with water!"
Miliana inspected a decayed patch of marble paneling. "It's eating into the walls!"
"Only a bit…" Lorenzo tried to buff a scorched table-top, which began crumbling to pieces in his hands. "No one minds. We all make a little mess from time to time."
Catching her foot on a piece of shrapnel, Miliana yelped and fell, only to be caught in Lorenzo's arms. The girl readjusted her pointy hat and scowled down at the debris in scorn.
"What is all this?"
"A light projector! It's going to be an engraving machine-or maybe a lathe." Lorenzo tried to kick broken pieces of steel tankage out of sight. "I'm having trouble with the right mix of chemicals."
"So I see." Briskly straightening her damp robes, Miliana let the subject drop like an overripe haddock. "Anyway-I came to ask you for some help. Do you know anything about birds?"
Lorenzo blinked in absolute incomprehension. "Birds?"
"Yes, birds. Birds?" Miliana stuck out her fingertips and wagged them frenziedly in the air. "Feathers, beaks, claws-birds!"
"Oh, as in avians." The young scholar puffed himself up in pride. "Actually, as it so happens, I am an expert on the subject."
"Truly?"
"I am conducting a close survey of wing structures as a basis for designing my flying machine." Lorenzo reached for a thick leather-bound volume lying on a rapidly disintegrating shelf. "My lady-you have a specimen you wish me to identify?"
"If it's no trouble." Miliana watched Lorenzo as he tried to tuck debris out of the way behind the drapes. "Just leave that. I'll have someone clean it up and repair the walls."
Lorenzo balked at this airy indication of Miliana's hidden powers.
"You can do that?"
Miliana turned about and looked at the young scholar in confusion.
"Well, of course I can do that." The girl looked at the damaged room and shrugged. "Anyway-it happens to me all the time."
"Oh."
"Yes-now come on. I don't want this 'specimen' running loose about my room unattended!"
Lorenzo gathered up his books, a butterfly net and a small magnifying glass, then struggled out into the corridors in hot pursuit of the girl.
He observed his companion as she walked, fascinated by the interplay of wistful expression, subtle line, and seething irritation. Passing by the kitchen door, Miliana stole one of Lady Ulia's fruit carts, trundling the collection of oranges, melon slices and cheese off along the halls to her tower. Keeping an eye out for passing stepmothers, Miliana opened her locks and hastily crammed Lorenzo through the open door.
"Tekorii-kii-kii! Tekorii-kii-kii!''
A raucous screech joyfully heralded their entry. Lorenzo hefted his butterfly net and moved to the fore, ready to snare Miliana's wild bird. Behind him, Miliana rolled in the fruit cart and nudged the door shut.
"I'm back!" Miliana whirred her cart past the startled Lorenzo and moved out into her room. "I brought you fruit-you know, to eat? Mmmmmmm! Yummy yummy!"
Lorenzo heard the flap of wings from deep inside the girl's boudoir. With a heroic flourish of his net, he stepped into the doorway, saw the creature sitting on Miliana's worktable, and froze as stiff as if he had walked in on a medusa in her bath.
Flapping happy wings in greeting, the titanic, silly bird rose from the table and floundered forward toward Miliana. A mixture of bright orange, golden yellows and rich flame reds, the creature's plumage smote the eyes. Cooing and cawing to itself, the bird strode waggishly forward to inspect the fruit cart with avid, hungry eyes.
In essence, the bird consisted of a long length of neck, a stubby body, and acres of glorious tail. This magnificence had then been garnished by adding a beak thick enough to sever a man's hand, and great hooked talons at the ends of cheery yellow feet. Lorenzo stared at the creature, felt the blood drain from his head; then drew his rapier and took an instinctive step to place himself between the fair damsel and the great carnivorous bird.
The movement took the feathery being all aback. The bird looked from Miliana to Lorenzo, flapped its wings in indignation, and suddenly seemed to swell up to enormous size. Feathers fluffed and neck arching high above Lorenzo, the bird shuddered with appalling rage and hissed its way across the floor.
Faced with a monster, Lorenzo crouched, desperately trying to decide whether to flee or fight. Seeing its rival cowed, the bird halted its rush and loomed above the young man, beak agape and wings shaking to and fro as it strutted back and forth in glorious majesty. Finally content with its display, the bird flattened down its feathers and waddled back to Miliana.
Lorenzo recovered slowly, like a garden snail emerging cautiously from its shell. The bird gave itself very superior airs, lowering its eyelids to look back across its shoulders in scorn.
Miliana watched the whole affair in wry silence, and then planted a fist upon her hip as she addressed the giant bird.
"Finished?"
"Nonk nonk!" The bird
settled its feathers.
Without the slightest trace of malice, the bird happily sidled over to Lorenzo and inspected him from head to toe, seeming to approve of everything he saw. Lorenzo returned the creature look for look, studying it in speechless amazement. Bird and nobleman circled one another in a dizzy parade until Lorenzo pulled away and fixed his hostess with an incredulous eye.
"Where in the name of the Binder of What is Known did you find it?"
"Oh, it found me." Miliana busied herself peeling an apple, using a ridiculous amount of concentration and crinkling up her freckled, upturned nose. "Or rather he found me. He dropped in through the ceiling, just over there." The girl pointed with her fruit knife at a chaotic wreck of plaster, ceiling boards, and dirt. "I think he's been living up there in the attic for quite a while."
Lorenzo picked his way through the rubble, cautiously climbed onto the rim of Miliana's filthy bathtub, and used the perch to see up into the attic. The filtered light showed the conical space to be largely empty, except for a great pile of wrack and rags which Lorenzo took to be the creature's nest.
"Well, there doesn't seem to be any more of them."
"One's quite enough, thank you." Miliana passed each of her companions a slice of apple. The bird held the fruit delicately in his beak and rotated it around and around with flicks of a hard, horny tongue. "I've never heard of anything like him, have you?"
"No. No, not at all." Lorenzo hoisted his reference book onto his hip and opened the cover, jamming his apple in his mouth. "'Ot do 'ou call 'im?"
The bird replied with a great, eager flapping of wings.
"Tekorii-kii-kii!
"Tekorii-kii-kii!"
Miliana peeled another apple, her brows creasing themselves behind her spectacles. "… Tekoriikii."
"So I hear." Lorenzo tried to take measurements of the uncooperative Tekoriikii's skull. "There's quite an extensive cranium. Unusual for an avian, wouldn't you say?"
"Oh, he's intelligent." Miliana looked over at the bird, which was in danger of getting his head caught inside a flower vase. "Well-sentient, anyway. He does have a language."
"Truly?" Lorenzo inspected the patterns on the bird's tail feathers with his magnifying glass. "How can you tell?"
"You just have to watch him for a while. One picks it up eventually."
The bird stood on one foot, using his other claw to hold a big round cheese; he seemed to be consuming the hard rind and letting the soft center fall in pieces to the carpet. Miliana sighed and wondered how she was ever going to make the room seem clean. A maid would run wailing straight to Ulia; the only thing for it was to sweep up the filth herself, then see about patching the ceiling. Miliana stood to survey the damage, fists on her hips and her pointy hat tilted far back from her brows, while behind her Lorenzo and Tekoriikii deepened their acquaintance.
Using his magnifying glass, Lorenzo inspected Tekoriikii's talons, feet, and eyes; he flipped though pages of his book, thoughtfully holding drawings up against the light, then solemnly shaking his head in disappointment.
With her sleeves rolled up and a broom in hand, Miliana came to peer across the young noble's shoulder and scan his current page.
"Well, have you discovered what he is?"
"Absolutely!" Lorenzo closed his guidebook with a great, satisfied bang. "Master Tekoriikii is a phoenix."
The announcement was met by an unconvinced adjustment of Miliana's spectacles. Lorenzo decided that his professional judgment was being belittled, and opened up the pages of his book by way of proof.
"Here-see? Phoenix Nobilus Conflagrata-the sacred, or fiery, phoenix."
Miliana looked down at the picture in Lorenzo's book. It detailed a lean, elegant creature with willowy proportions and a haughty air sitting on a nest of crackling flames. The girl pushed her spectacles down her nose, peered across the rims toward the happy-go-lucky Tekoriikii, then swiveled hazel eyes back to Lorenzo's hopeful face.
"I think not."
"But milady, it's the same color. Look, do you see? Orange pinions and highlights of flame red hue."
"He is not a phoenix!" Miliana prevented the bird from swallowing a ball of potpourri. "Phoenixes are big on spontaneous combustion and very big on brains."
"Why does that rule out this specimen?"
Tekoriikii went avidly on about his affairs; Miliana irritably shifted the potpourri out of reach again. "Just call it woman's intuition. I think we can rule out the phoenix thing."
Lorenzo paused, sucking on the wrong end of his pen.
"We could always set fire to him and see."
"Not with my giant bird you don't!" Miliana threw protective arms around Tekoriikii's neck, and the bird blinked in surprise. "Now just search the book. Doesn't it say anything?"
Lorenzo sat cross-legged in the plaster dust and flipped through the pages of his references. Miliana swept the floor all around him; the bird soon came to her assistance and began carrying broken boards and plaster in his beak-usually depositing his loads on the patches of floor Miliana had just finished sweeping. Unseeing and uncaring, Lorenzo kept on with his studies, calling out possibilities through the legs of the fruit cart.
"Peacock?"
"A peacock?" Miliana's voice pealed loud in shock. "He's two yards long! Twelve if you count the tail."
"Maybe he's a giant peacock. Anyway, his tail's nowhere near ten yards. Maybe as many feet, but…"
Tekoriikii couldn't help a glance at his backside, then something like a shrug.
"Maybe." Miliana began dragging her bathtub over to her balcony. "Keep looking."
Lorenzo flipped a page, oblivious to the girl's surprising display of strength.
"Here's an axe beak. A sort of flightless carnivore. Would you say he's flightless?"
Tekoriikii obligingly extended a short, feathery wing. Lorenzo sighed and went back to his books.
"It would help if we knew where he came from. He can't possibly be native to the Blade Kingdoms. I still feel the red coloring indicates an affinity for fire." A drawing slipped from Lorenzo's volume, a detailed drawing of a falcon's wing. "Ask him if he came from an area of pronounced volcanic activity-like the Smoking Mountains of Unther or the Lake of Steam."
Miliana cocked an eyebrow at the bird, who threw back his head and began to play out a little dance.
"Tekorii-kii-kii! Tekorii-kii-kii!"
The creature danced a little to the left, danced a little to the right; shook his tail high while bobbing his head down low. Finally he extended one great yellow talon and made a ghastly noise reminiscent of a wet leather trombone.
Miliana turned back to Lorenzo with a sigh.
"He says he doesn't know."
Every other princess in the world managed to win themselves a magical talking horse or a pegasus or even a blink dog as their companion. Instead, Miliana seemed to have just acquired a giant, crazed, orange bird-of-paradise.
Lorenzo closed his books with a helpless shrug. The two young humans sat side by side on Miliana's bed and watched the bird preening the feathers under his wing.
"Will you make him a cage?"
"Certainly not!" Miliana was utterly outraged. "What a wretched suggestion. He's not doing anyone any harm up in the attic."
Lorenzo watched the busy bird with a blossoming sense of awe.
"I'd like to study him some more. Still-maybe we ought to make him feel more at home."
"How?"
"Maybe we could make an enormous seed bell?"
The bird had taken an interest in Miliana's picture books. He stood with his head cranked over to one side staring at a painted fairy tale. Handsome as a cast bronze god, the bird settled itself down and began to happily turn page after page.
Miliana regarded the creature with loving fascination; the expression lit her from within like a pure, new summer's dawn.
"This isn't so bad. I mean, how much trouble can a big orange bird be?" Her face suddenly innocent and eager, Miliana turned bright eyes upon Lorenzo and trapped h
im in her gaze. "Hey! Have you ever heard any prophecies about birds and princesses?"
"No." Lorenzo swayed, trapped by Miliana's brilliant gaze. "No, I can't say that I have. Why?"
"It was just a thought."
Evening was falling. In the palace courtyard, Lady Ulia's voice could be heard as she harassed decorators, servants, cooks and guards. The starlings swirled high above Miliana's balcony heading for their noisy beds.
Lost in peace and quiet, maiden, boy and orange bird all sat to watch the sky stream with tints of rose.
Lorenzo turned to watch the young woman at his side; her whole being seemed to shimmer as she smiled.
"Milady? How are you going to explain the broken ceiling?"
"I'm working on it." Miliana propped her chin on her knees and watched the glorious bright bird. "Let's just take one thing at a time…"
Skies darkened, starlings whirled, while in Miliana's room, Tekoriikii the firebird posed for Lorenzo's sketching charcoal with every appearance of joy.
Smeared with dust and cobwebs, Orlando Toporello thundered in through the Mannicci stables and slung his cloak across a stall. Mice squeaked and skittered from his path as he chased grooms out from hiding and bid them attend to his mount. Prince Mannicci watched all from his perch atop his own great golden horse, then swung himself down to greet his friend man-to-man.
"No sign, Toporello?"
"No sign, my lord!" Old Toporello slashed at a night-spider's web with his riding crop. "Another necklace stolen last night, right from under the eyes of the patrol. I have men combing every street, and there's not even a footprint to this cat-burglar's name."
"The festival will calm him." Prince Mannicci fell in step beside his oldest friend. "The parties will fill the palaces and give our thief too many eyes to dodge. We have a week in which to think of better plans."
Plans. Toporello sat and rested his weary bones on the edge of a fountain, cracking shoulders stiffened by long, hard years of drill and war.
"Speaking of plans, my lord, have the Lomatrans made any offers for your daughter's hand?"
"The bridegroom has asked to stay in the palace. He must be pressing forward with his suit."