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«To bury her attackers under the rubble and not be hurt…» said Fiona dreamily.«That is magic!»
«But it was too late to learn. If you have drunk the magic book, you cannot go to School of Witchcraft – no one will be admitted! A book is sent as a guide and a pass. There is no messenger. It finds you, like a bird or a ghost. But when you give it to her, you give up everything.»
Rokuela should never have told her about it. It was more delicate to remain silent. In her mind, Fiona scolded herself. She used to live peacefully in the mill. Now there was nowhere to go. A way to the magic school, invisible to Ornella’s guards, would come in handy. It would be the only place to sit out while they looked for you as a witch. And when your graduation date comes, you’ll come out so strong that you’ll demolish the entire state of your enemies in a jiffy.
«I wish you’d warned me sooner,» Fiona sighed. She doesn’t think Ornella will leave a victim behind. They’ll send guards or gryphons after her for sure. She felt sick at the thought of the latter. The clawed jaws alone were worth a scratch a month’s worth of healing. And what would happen if the birds decided to peck her to death.
«You have a gift of some sort, and it’s independent of your training,» Rokuela said. «I just can’t figure out what it is.»
«I can see ghosts,» said Fiona, recalling the Jokers in the ruins.
«Plenty of people can do that without a magic gift.»
«But those ghosts were bright, not your typical ghosts.»
«Were you able to make them serve you? Did they do some kind of thing you asked them to do, or did they do some kind of errand you wanted them to do? Did they drag you into their circle and share your forbidden secrets?»
Fiona shook her head mournfully. She seemed talentless. And it wouldn’t be a bad idea to set ghost jesters to tear Ornella apart. They would have mocked her for a long time before the massacre. They’re jesters.
«Let me see your hands!» Rokuela looked at her palms. «They are all scratched! I’m no chiromancer, but this mark here looks like a line of enrichment… Tell me, are you attracted to gold.»
«Do you mean gold?» Fiona thought about it. She wondered if it was worth mentioning that she was magnetically attracted to it by the sight of golden eagle feathers. It had caused so much trouble, hadn’t it? It was better not to follow the eagle. Then she wouldn’t have met the insensitive Condor, the ravenous princes, and the evil queen.
«Come on!» insisted Rokuela. «Maybe you hear the coins singing, or maybe they jump into your pocket, popping out of other people’s purses. You ought to go around the marketplace and check it out.»
«You shouldn’t! Such talent, even if I have it, will not keep me safe from Ornella’s griffins.»
«But you can make a fortune and hire your own army for protection, and buy your own fortress, which I will shield with magic.»
«I…» Fiona struggled to explain how she’d discovered the mound beneath the ruins. «I seem to be attracted only to the gold that is buried in the ground. I see a halo of glow where it’s buried. It happened to me once or twice by happy coincidence. Or maybe the ghosts of the ruins told me…»
«You are a treasure hunter!» Rokuela rejoiced. «It is a good gift, but you cannot do without helpers. The gold is often buried too deep for you to retrieve it by yourself. There is magic that makes the earth part. If you had learned it in magic school, you could have got the treasure even from the bottom of the sea.»
«Don’t remind me how much I’ve lost by not going to school! Or I’ll burst into tears!»
«Don’t grieve! I guess your talent wasn’t so great that you didn’t figure out the book’s purpose. Ornella probably only clung to you because of the prophecy about the redheads.»
«What was the prophecy?» Fiona only now noticed that one blue morialla was perched imposingly on top of the flooded fireplace.
«She’s not a spy,» Rokuela nodded at the bird. «So, about the redheads… It is a delicate subject! There is a prophecy that the Sultanit’s dynasty will be massacred by a single ginger-haired girl. She can be identified by her freckles and her ability to communicate with the souls of the dead.»
«You mean ghosts?» Fiona remembered the jesters and the corpses in the carriage. She had communicated with the latter. She didn’t imagine it.
«Does communicating with dead people in dreams count, too?»
«Well, if they’re frequent dreams…»
«What if I only dreamt about the dead woman who warned me of danger once?»
«Then it might just have been a prophetic dream. Many people have such dreams when they’re in danger. And you were about to be executed.»
«It is ridiculous! Her hair is like fire, but she would have died in the fire,» the horned skull of a morgen’s muttered as he lay across the table and laughed gruffly.
«Shut up!» Rokuela hissed at him and explained. «That’s my counselor.»
She had a magic fish, a man-each minute changing the color of its scales, a man-shell that sang beautifully, and a strange jelly-fish-like creature that swept the floor with its tentacles.
It was the shell that Fiona liked best. It had such a sweet-sounding singing voice, as if a siren had been imprisoned inside.
«You’ll have to stay here with me and my pets,» she concluded when she heard the sound of huge wings rustling through the rain.»
«Wouldn’t it be better if I went back to the mill? I don’t want to embarrass you.»
In fact she was frightened. A hedge of live jellyfish, morgens’ skulls, and mermaid’s bones would impress anyone. And then there’s the creature in the fire tank!
«Ornella will find you at the mill. Griffons never let their victims go, and their brides won’t be let go by sea magic.»
«Are griffons sea birds?»
«All birds that are capable of flying across the sea can be categorized as sea birds. They have settled by the sea.»
She’s right about that. Ornella and her brothers’ castle stands at the edge of the surf. It’s like a rock rising out of the coastal waves. That’s no coincidence.
«You already know there’s a terrible curse on the whole Sultanit’s dynasty,» Rokuela said, as if she’d just remembered it now. She clutched the amulet of feathers and shells tightly in her hands. The feathers seemed to be eagle feathers.
«They were now only half human and half griffin. And every bride or groom chosen by the children of the cursed Sultanit’s King will also be forced to turn into a griffin. It is fate that will decide whether they die in the first transformation or become accustomed to the plumage of a bird.»
The drumbeat of rain became as unpleasant as if needles had been pricked into their ears. Fiona somehow wasn’t surprised or questioning the sea witch’s words. Ornella had mentioned werewolves for a reason. Nor was the game of clawed tomboys a coincidence.
«So all birds could turn into griffins? Can Condor, too?»
It didn’t surprise Rokuela that Fiona was interested in the most handsome of princes.
«He is the only one who is an innocent victim. Only half of the Sultan’s blood is in him, but he has become so accustomed to the guise of the golden eagle that he himself has become a predator.»
The golden eagle is him! That’s why she was so infatuated with him that she climbed into the cave! Condor’s charm was undeniable. No matter what form he took, he could charm a girl’s heart out of anything.
«Werewolves are not a fairy tale,» Rokuela interpreted her grief in her own way. «You may not believe a man can turn into a wolf or a bird of prey with claws of steel, but you can’t ignore the power of a curse.»
«I’m afraid that for bad people, the curse can be a blessing. If Ornella manages to turn into a bird of prey, she will tear everyone apart.»
«She can,» Rokuela dumbfounded her. – All of the king’s children can turn into birds. In addition, they all develop some sort of magical gift. The Condor, for instance, can understand what the wind reports. He can also easily translate the speech of the spirits of rain, fire, and even snow and ice. He is the most gifted of the royal family.»
«And he is the most evil!»
«Conrad is not evil! He just doesn’t want anyone else to be victimized, so he doesn’t greet anyone. I bet he tried to chase you away when you snuck into the eagle’s nest.»
«Did he call you here to get me away from the eagle princes forever?» Fiona guessed. That’s hardly a sign of kindness. It’s more likely that Condor was afraid his brothers would be attracted to the peasant girl. He and Ornella were on the same side. What two snobs!
For some reason, she longed unbearably to dance with all the princes again, and then to fly with the birds. What was going through her head? It is as if someone is sending them to her on purpose.
«They are looking for you,» Rokuela realized. «Close your mind to them!»
«Or else they will tear me to pieces, won’t they?»
«As long as you’re with me, they don’t stand a chance. If you have nowhere else to go, we should unite against them. But to help me, you must return to the castle for a while and trick the princes into believing that you miss them, too, and are even willing to sacrifice yourself for them. It’s risky, but worth the risk.»
Fiona fell asleep on the move. Rokuela’s translucent eyes fascinated her. Rokuela was definitely not young, but her skin was so youthful. What magic tricks does she not know? Is an alliance with her power or doom?
«What do you want from the Sultanit’s dynasty?» Fiona asked, yawning. «Is it their total annihilation?»
«I only want my beloved back. He is imprisoned somewhere by King of Sultanit.»
«King of Sultanit is dead. The queen rules there now.»
«Is it a queen?» Rokuela didn’t know that yet. She must not have looked in her mirror.
«I’m sure I heard. Ornella was proclaimed queen.»
«Then the worst thing happened. Did none of the brothers insist on their right to the throne?»
«It is no one!»
«Oh, my! The weakest link turned out to be the strongest. Six months ago, I wouldn’t have bet on Ornella and a crushed shell. Either Orvel or Condor should have ruled.»
«Is Condor the eldest?» Fiona thought he was the youngest.
«He is the youngest,» Rokuela confirmed. «But I could see in the future that he must rule the country. It makes sense. He’s reasonable and reserved. He would be a good counterbalance to the brothers’ aggression.»
«Not all prophecies are destined to come true,» said Fiona philosophically.
Perhaps it was for the best. If Condor were King, no more maidens’ hearts would be broken. He’d already broken her heart. Fiona would have liked to tame him, even as a golden eagle, but he was beyond her reach.
«Consider my offer now!» Rokuela wove fanciful ornaments of coins and shells into her hair, and prepared to set out into the night.
Fiona realized that she should not be asked where she was going. It was a mystery.
Raid
A night surrounded by creepy sea creatures was no sugar coating. Fiona didn’t even know where best to spend the night: out in the open, risking being clawed by griffins, or in a house full of sea creatures. As soon as Rokuela left, the morgens in the aquarium became aggressive. Some strange, tiny creatures crawled across the floor of the hut. And the shells whispered in hoarse, monotonous voices, like the sound of the surf:
«I’ll bet you an eternity that the griffins will come back for her.»
«They never leave their prey behind.»
«Not even iron doors can keep her from them.»
«But there is an amulet that protects even against a bird’s claws!»
Could it be that they’re talking about that fancy amulet of feathers that lies next to them on the shelf. Fiona instinctively grabbed it and put it around her neck. Any protection is better than none. Although, she had noticed a similar amulet around Ornella’s neck. It probably wasn’t protective after all, but a sorcerer’s.
The bivalve on the table shone and opened, revealing a large pearl inside, glistening with all the colors of the rainbow. A wonderful singing voice poured out of the shell. It must have been hypnotizing, because Fiona fell asleep to the singing of the shell.
She awoke to an earthquake-like rumble. The dawn was gray, and it sounded as if rocks were falling from the sky and hitting the roof of the cabin. Fiona became nervous. The house seemed to be groaning under the heel of a giant who was about to tear it down.
The walls shook, and sharp bird claws scratched against the windows.
They were griffins! They swooped down on the sea witch’s cottage from all sides. The flapping of their wings echoed in her ears. Their claws scraped against the windowpanes, but they could not squeeze them out.
«They’re looking for their prey,» they whispered from the shelves. It was the shells talking again.
«How could they see the house below? They don’t usually see it when they fly over.»
«That’s right! They’re blind wherever sea magic has taken root. They, too, are prisoners of the underwater kingdom.»
Fiona shuddered when she heard the last phrase. The shells said it with grim solemnity.
«Who are the prisoners of the underwater kingdom?» She asked, but none of the shells dignified her with an answer.
Fiona was even offended. Shellfish are such chatterboxes when they need to talk among themselves, and with a human girl they do not want to engage in conversation. Or are they forbidden?
«Come to the window!» Suddenly a familiar voice called.
Fiona turned around. Outside one of the windows a huge, majestic bird was flying. It was a gryphon, a crowned gryphon. His feathered head gleamed with a gold crown of teeth like a king’s crown. It was no longer a gryphon, but Prince Orwell, standing outside the window, timidly beckoning her to him.
Fiona hesitantly moved toward him. She was won over by the fact that Orvel acted as if he were a lover who had come to sing a serenade beneath the window of his sweetheart. Except he had neither a lute nor a mandolin, and his sharp steel fingernails bore the claws of a griffin. But he has a magnificent crown on his forehead. Fiona sighed languidly. Somehow she instantly forgot all the hurt and even the fact that she was about to be executed. Now Orvel looked more handsome than ever. Only his eyes glittered feverishly.
«Let me in!» He asked. It was very uncomfortable for him to stand on the bridges near the house. There was a little room, and it was slippery, and the bones of mermaids and morgenes could prick him.
«Can’t you go in yourself?»
Orvel shook his head sadly.
«There are sea spells everywhere. They won’t let me in. But you can let me in. You’re special! That’s why we can’t all live without you. Ever since you disappeared, all the princes have had thirst and insomnia that won’t go away from anything.»
«But you were going to burn me as a witch,» Fiona reminded him.
«It was Ornella, not us. We won’t let her do that again.»
Should we take his word for it? Fiona hesitated. He was a werewolf, after all. She had just seen with her own eyes how he had changed from a griffin to a man. But he was a prince, and quite handsome. She’d developed a weakness for princes recently. She guessed all country girls are overly susceptible to the allure of nobility.
«I can’t let you in,» Fiona admitted honestly. «This isn’t my house.»
«Then come out yourself!» He beckoned to her more insistently. «Hurry up! Rokuela will return.»
Behind him on the bridges the other brothers were already turning from griffins to princes. Perhaps Condor could join them. Fiona longed impatiently to see him again.
She cast a wary glance at Rockwell’s sinister pets. It was no less dangerous in the sea witch’s cottage than it was in the company of the griffin princes.
