Birdie's Book - Andrea Burden [32]
I touched mine; it was like downy silk. “What are these for?” I asked.
“These are your last gift from me,” said the queen with a smile.
“Thank you,” I said.
Kerka smiled. “Will we be flying?” she asked.
“Something like that,” said the fairy queen. “With these magic redbird feathers, you can ride the Redbird Wind.”
“Is that good?” I asked.
“It will be faster than walking to the Shadow Garden,” said the queen, “but it will pose challenges.”
I sighed. “And I bet you won’t tell us what those challenges are.”
“That’s right,” said the queen, raising one eyebrow. “But I can tell you not to drop the feathers while you are on the wind, for their magic only works while you hold them.”
I didn’t say that that seemed kind of obvious to me, but Kerka and I looked at each other, and I could tell she was thinking the same thing.
As Kerka and I put our feathers into our pockets, the queen continued, “I have given you three things now: the map for direction, the heart gift for strength, and the feathers for flight. Now, here is something to remember.” She reached to gently close my eyelids, and a vision from The Book of Dreams rose in my mind.
The Green Song
Don’t give me diamonds
I don’t need gold
Just leaves and sunlight
And a gentle wind to blow
Green
Surround and cradle me
Green
me breathe and sing
I can see a patch of blue
Breaking through
I can feel a little smile
Coming to me
Green
Surround and cradle me
Green
Let me breathe and sing
I opened my eyes. “That was Mo’s dream!” I said. “But what am I supposed to remember from it?”
“That is for you to figure out,” said the fairy queen, giving Kerka and me each a kiss on the cheek. “Off you go to find the Redbird Wind.”
Before I could open my mouth to ask how, Queen P. winked at us. “Just one last bit of fairy help: Follow the scent of cinnamon.” She touched the glass wall, which melted away like ice, leaving enough room for both Kerka and me to walk through.
We walked into more roses and lilacs on the other side. Kerka and I each sniffed a little. Sure enough, there was the smell of cinnamon. We had to push our way through the lilacs and rosebushes to follow it. I turned around to wave to Queen P. one last time. She was gone, and I could barely make out the glass wall, whole again.
Kerka and I kept on through the bushes. Tiny thorns scratched my hands like kittens’ claws until I told them to stop, in Latin. I was surprised when they did!
We emerged from the bushes into a field of wildflowers. Clearly, we were not meant to stop there, for the scent of cinnamon pulled us on. In between sniffing the air like a beautifully dressed bloodhound, I talked to the flowers.
“Ave, amicas!” I greeted them one after the other.
Soon Kerka was greeting them as well, since it was an easy phrase to pick up. We always got happy responses in return.
At the opposite side of the field was an odd rocky hill, or rather, a hill of rocks, and not just any rocks, but huge gray ones that sparkled with mica. The rocks looked as if giants had been piling them up for some purpose now long forgotten.
At the bottom of the rock hill, the breeze picked up the cinnamon smell and stirred it around.
“It smells like those tiny red Valentine candies!” I said.
“It smells like the coffee cake my mother used to make,” said Kerka.
I wondered if it made her a little sad, but I didn’t have time to think about that because the wind began to blow in earnest. I had to hold my fairy cloak so it wouldn’t sail off. As the wind swirled up the rocky hill, it turned pink, then deepened in color until it shrouded the rocks at the top in a whirling crimson.
I leaned toward Kerka. “Do you think this is the Redbird Wind?” I asked.
Kerka gazed at the crimson wind. She nodded. “It must be. Are you ready?”
“Yes, very ready,” I said. I am going to save my family’s place here in Aventurine or die trying! I thought. Suddenly I wondered how hurt I could get in this dreamland.