Birdie's Book - Andrea Burden [33]
“Let’s go to the wind, then!” Kerka said. “This’ll be fun!” she added. “Didn’t you always want to fly, Birdie?”
“Uh-huh,” I said, trying to sound excited again. “Always.”
We clambered up the rocks. I banged my knees and shins more than once, but I was determined to keep up with Kerka. We stopped before the top because that’s where the red wind was now swirling like icing in motion on a cupcake. The scent of cinnamon was overwhelmingly spicy.
“Let’s get out our feathers and see what happens,” I suggested.
We both held our magic redbird feathers tightly in front of us. We looked around.
“I feel like we’re supposed to say some magic words,” I said. I giggled, thinking about how we must look: two girls in fabulous fairy clothes, holding up feathers, hoping we could fly.
Suddenly the crimson whirlwind came right at me. It pulled at my hair, which was now flying around where it wasn’t held by the purple scarf. I gave a little squeak and tried to back away, but the wind pulled me toward the top of the hill. I looked over at Kerka; she had backed up and wasn’t in the wind’s pull.
“Help!” I shouted to her.
“Just relax and let yourself get sucked in,” said Kerka. “I think that’s how it’s done.”
“WHAT?” I shouted. “No way! That’s easy for you to say—you’re not the one being pulled!”
Kerka grinned. “Watch me!” she said. She headed over the rocks past me, as nimble as a mountain goat, redbird feather clutched in her hand.
What could I do? I grabbed Kerka’s hand (my other hand held the feather) just in time for the wind to suck us up together.
We spun with so much force that Kerka and I were pulled apart. I shut my eyes against the stinging wind. My closed eyes calmed me, and my nose filled with the cinnamon smell. I felt the wind stop whirling. I opened my eyes, feeling a little dizzy. Below me, I could see we had gone well past the rock hill and the fairies’ realm. We were flying along another river that cut through low green hills.
The wind blew, but the air was clear. The sky was an electric blue, with puffy white clouds here and there. I was in the middle of a flock of redbirds the size of crows, with long feathered tails and crests on their heads. And I was flying! I flapped my arms like wings and went faster through the air. It was like swimming in the air. It made sense that in a dreamland like Aventurine the flying was like dream flying!
I looked around for Kerka. She was gliding amidst the birds, arms outstretched, surveying the ground below.
“Kerka!” I called.
She looked over at me and grinned. “I told you it would be fun!” she called. She turned her body so that she swooped over to me.
We flew together for a while, both of us checking out our new flying powers, our red feathers held tightly in our hands. Below us, the green hills became bigger mountains, with the turquoise river still running through them. The river crashed down in a series of magnificent waterfalls that sent spray almost all the way up to where we rode the Redbird Wind.
After the waterfalls, I zipped ahead of Kerka and the birds, right into the cool, damp center of a cloud. I could hear the birds following me, and I could see the flash of their red wings out of the corner of my eye. We burst out of the cloud back into brightness, the sun high above us.
I shot a glance behind me to see Kerka in the middle of the birds, grinning madly at me. She gave me a thumbs-up. Then I slowed down and let her catch up with me.
I was feeling deliriously happy until I spotted a patch of dark clouds far in the distance. With the sight of that cloud, it all came back to me. All I was going to have to do. All that rested on my shoulders. Below the dark clouds, the ground was shadowed in darkness. I knew I was looking at Dora’s ink stain, spreading into sky, soil, tree limbs, and roots.
I turned to Kerka. “The Shadow Tree is there somewhere,” I said.
“We can do it, Birdie,” Kerka said, but even she sounded a little nervous.