Birdie's Book - Andrea Burden [51]
The elf jumped up and down and spoke in jumbled rhyme. “The name I choose is Kerka Laine. So I win, you lose, I know your name.”
My mouth dropped open, but I quickly closed it. The fairies must have told him to expect me.
“Don’t hesitate or you’ll be late!” The elf leaned toward me, his brow furrowing. “Your task must be finished, over and done, before the Three Queens’ glow disappears in the sun.”
He waved his hand.
“By morning?” I asked, perplexed.
“Maybe.” The elf shrugged.
I asked a different question, hoping to get a clearer answer. “How long do I have?”
“Tomorrow, today. It’s hard to say.”
“What does that mean?” I asked as evenly as I could. I couldn’t let myself get riled up by this little guy.
The elf threw up his hands. “Sometimes the sun rises, sometimes it blinks on. Or takes the day off, and there isn’t a dawn.” Then he concluded in an ominous tone: “In Aventurine, anything goes, and no one, but no one, ever knows.”
I exhaled slowly. So no one in Aventurine knew when the golden glow on the Three Queens would be lost in sunlight, because the sun didn’t always follow the rules. But it didn’t matter. I still had to find my little sister’s voice before dawn, whenever it happened. I had to have time to finish. Otherwise, my mission would be a fool’s errand, and Queen Patchouli was no fool. But now I had to go as fast as possible in case there was exactly enough time and not a minute more, which brought me back to my original problem.
“Thank you,” I said to the elf. “That is very helpful information. So can you tell me which path I should take?” I asked as respectfully as I could, trying to get elf points. “You seem to know so many things.”
“What trade can you make?” the elf asked.
In stories, elves never do something for nothing, and they are willing to barter for both honor and treats. It was a good thing the Willowood fairies had given me food for the journey. “I have a honey bar.” I took a bar from my pouch and held it out.
“Secondhand fairy food? That’s rude!” he said with a look of disdain.
“It’s perfectly good and very sweet!” I said, a little taken aback.
The elf leaned toward me again. “You can give a fairy’s gift away, but not for a bargain on any day.”
“Really?” I asked, truly surprised. “I had no idea. Well, I don’t have anything to trade, then. The fairies gave me everything I have, except my backpack.”
The elf sniffed. “One more thing is yours to give—your Kalis stick will always live.”
I was starting to feel a little grouchy myself. “I’ll get lost in Aventurine or risk being expelled forever before I’ll part with my Kalis stick,” I said. This actually seemed to be the right tone for the elf.
“So wise are you, and honorable, too.” The elf paused, rubbing his pointy chin as he considered our dilemma. “No trade means I cannot tell you which path to take, but I’ll give a hint for a favor’s sake.”
“So if I do you a favor, we’re even?” I asked.
The elf nodded. “Take a message to my brother, then nothing more will we owe one another.”
“And how will I find him?” I could not agree to anything that would take time or divert me from my quest.
“He’ll find you if your path be true,” the elf answered.
“Then I agree,” I said.
The elf motioned for me to come closer. When I leaned down, he said quietly, as if someone might be listening, “Tell him that if the wind goes free, so will we.”
“That’s easy enough to remember,” I said.
Then the elf kept his word and gave me the hint. He pointed to the mountain on the left and said, “Hourling for grace.” Then he pointed to the middle mountain and said, “Dayling for the brave.” He pointed to the last mountain. “Yearling for the serene.” He dropped his arm. “Only one will save your place in Aventurine.”
I laughed; this was a good hint for me. I was certain I knew what it meant. The Kalis sticks my mother gave my sisters and me each had a letter carved into them, but the letters didn’t match our names. Aiti had said only: “You will know why when the time is right.” The time was right now—my stick was carved