A Captive of Wing and Feather A Retelling of Swan Lake - Melanie Cellier Page 0,42
aside and honk at full volume to bring him racing to my side. But I didn’t want wild rumors filling the town about me leading the prince off into the forest.
As we walked, Gabe asked if I thought the swans would be capable and willing to complete a scouting assignment. When I looked surprised, he outlined all the reasons why they were the best candidates for the job and reassured me earnestly that he had no thought of them landing and putting themselves at any sort of risk.
“But it’s a big forest,” he said, “and wild animals aren’t the easiest to track. From the air the birds could cover a lot of ground, though—and who better to recognize beasts behaving strangely than other animals? If the swans could pinpoint a location—find a den for the wolves even—it would make our job a lot more manageable.”
Dark hadn’t fallen yet, so I had no words to tell him that his explanations and reassurances were unnecessary. My surprise had been at his suggesting such a reasonable and measured approach—one that didn’t involve exposing himself to any unnecessary danger. Actually, on second thought, it was probably a good thing that I couldn’t tell him the true source of my shocked expression.
When we reached the lake, I gathered my birds around me, explaining our request to them. They listened with interest, heads cocked to the side, only responding when I mentioned our morning’s encounter with the wolves. Then their feathers ruffled, and they honked and bugled in chorus.
“Yes, we know there was something unnatural about them,” I bugled. “And that’s why we need to find them. All we want you to do is to fly around and see if you can find any animals acting strangely. Especially predator animals.”
They clearly understood me, their feathers ruffling at the mention of predators. For a moment they seemed to be communing among themselves until Shadow gave a decisive bugle, cutting the rest of them off. She then dipped her head and tapped the ground once before looking back at me. Yes.
Shadow, with Sunny, Sammy, Stormy, and Eagle behind her, waddled into the water and took off, wings flapping and feet running. I looked at Snowy and Sweetie who had made no move to leave. It seemed I was to be left with some company. My eyes moved to Gabe. Extra company, that was.
He had already told me on the walk that he intended to spend the night in the forest again. He claimed it was to be on hand for the swans’ return, but I suspected he was motivated by some misguided notion that I needed protection.
After two years, I trusted whatever enchantment kept my lake free of dangers. But despite still having my paper on hand, I made no move to dissuade him. After all, it was possible it was actually a sensible precaution—if there was something unnatural about these particular animals, the enchantment might not work against them.
It seemed like a perfectly valid reason for wanting him to stay, so I made no further effort to delve into the possible reasons for my somewhat out-of-character acquiescence.
Chapter 13
There was nothing to do but wait for their return—and worry, but that hardly seemed productive—so I used the last of the light to show Gabe where he could find sweet, ripe berries. It wasn’t a difficult task as little bushes of them were tucked in odd spots all over the clearing.
When he commented on the strangeness of harvesting berries in spring, I shrugged. If I had my voice, I would have told him that at my strange lake, you could harvest berries all year round. It was one of the elements that fit into the idyllic, rather than villainous, aspect of my forest home.
The arriving dusk made it difficult to find the sweet treats, but it seemed to take an agonizingly long time for the last of the light to leave. Finally, however, I felt the familiar sensation of lightening pressure, and sighed with relief.
“Do you ever have a fire at night?” Gabe asked.
“No, I have no reason to light one.” The words flowed smoothly from my throat. I sighed again with the pleasure of it.
“Do you think the lake would be angry if I lit one tonight?” he asked.
“The lake isn’t alive, Gabriel. You can do as you please.”
I led him back to my shelter in the meager moonlight. The clouds were out tonight, and I could see why he wished for some light.