Phoenix Gift

Chapter Nineteen

Alexis woke to Cadmus and Eja romping around the small cottage. They leapt from the rotting, over-turned furniture, growling as they played chase and evade. Dust hung in the air as the dragons climbed to the rafters and glided down. Cobwebs snagged on their wings, but did not interfere with their game. Alexis giggled, watching the dragons chase each other over the table and up to the hanging cabinets. The raven was nowhere to be seen in the suns’ light filtering into the decrepit building through the broken windows and weathered, thatched roof.

During their play, the dragons found a small wooden box. Sniffing it both growled and seemed confused. Cadmus nudged it, his growls turning to whimpers. Eja attacked it. Sinking his sharp teeth into the dark wood, the red-orange dragon lifted it and shook it. Cadmus’s nostrils smoked as Eja viciously swung his head from side to side.

“Eja, put that down,” Alexis scolded. “It doesn’t belong to you.”

The reddish dragon paused then gave it a final shake before tossing it across the room. Tumbling, the box suddenly stopped and hung in midair. Eja barked at the floating box, upset that it had not smashed on the floor.

“That’s enough!” a voice commanded, hoarse and sudden like thunder.

Alexis jumped to her feet in surprise. Yelping, the two dragons climbed down from their perch, retreating to Alexis. They peered out from behind her cloak. The raven flew through the broken window, deposited a small sack on the floor before alighting on the chair leg. Around its neck, the opal glowed. Drifting toward the raven, the box gently lowered to the floor. The raven ruffled its feathers as the opal’s glow dissipated.

“Your breakfast, Your Highness,” the raven nodded to the sack.

Alexis knelt and dumped the contents of the worn bag onto the floor: a trout, stale bread and berries. The dragons raced forward and fought over the fish, grappling and pulling off scales as they struggled to ensure their fair share. Alexis ate, carefully chewing the bread, and wished for a better meal. Swallowing the last morsel, Alexis looked at the small box in front of her feathered host.

It was made of dark wood, but the lid was inlaid with several different woods so that the colors would make a pattern. Yet the pattern seemed random, as if miss arranged. Alexis reached out and touched the cool, polished box. A strange energy burned at her fingertips. She quickly pulled back her hand.

“Miss Raven, what is in the box?”

“A gift.”

“Is it someone’s birth celebration?”

“No. It is a gift for a Faery Queen. She used to live in a beautiful meadow beyond the sunlit stairs.”

“Where does she live now?”

“In a garden, so I’m told,” the raven answered with a sigh.

“Is the garden pretty?” Alexis asked and stared at the box, wondering if it was a gift of seeds to plant.

“I do not know. I have never seen it.”

“Oh,” Alexis looked up and asked, “where is it?”

“On Milagros.”

“Milagros? I live there!” Alexis clapped her hands. “Maybe I have seen the garden.”

“I am sure you have. Perhaps you can take the box back with you.”

“Why don’t you come with us, Miss Raven? I’m sure you would like Milagros. It’s very pretty.”

“I am sure it is,” the raven nodded. “But I do not belong there.”

“Yes, you do,” Alexis answered. “Ingrim said so.”

“Ingrim?” the bird tilted its head to one side.

“Ah-ha. The wizards asked the Divine Sisters to choose a new member of the Council. Their messenger showed us the talisman around your neck.”

The raven’s feathers stood on end.

“Absalom said it belonged to his daughter and Tavel came all the way to find her.”

“Tavel?” the raven looked at the roughhousing dragons. “I thought he looked familiar.”

“You know Tavel and Eja?”

The raven silently turned back to her.

“I’m sure he would be happy to see you.”

“I doubt he will remember me.”

“I think he will. Please, Miss Raven. Come with us.”

“I will see you safely to your father,” the raven said at length. “I will not promise more than that.”

Alexis sat back and nodded, biting her lip.

“Come, Your Highness,” the raven said and spread its wings. “It is time to be off. Bring the box but be careful with it.”

The raven flew to the window and waited. Alexis picked up the box, carrying it to the door. The door noiselessly opened for her, and she stepped into the bright light of the suns. Cadmus and Eja followed. The raven stepped through the broken window and flew to the edge of the grove. There, it paused to wait for Alexis and the dragons to follow.

Bird songs escorted them down dappled paths as the raven flew from perch to perch, leading the others through the forest. They did not hear a sound from the centaurs as they emerged from the trees to see the gaping mouth of the cave. Entering the dark cave, the raven flew beside Alexis. The opal glowed, illuminating the surrounding area. The cave seemed gloomier in the silver light.

“How do you make it glow?” Alexis suddenly asked.

“I do not make the Talon’s Eye do anything,” the raven answered. “It does what its master wills.”

“Aren’t you its master?”

“No, I am only its guardian.”

“Is Merrille its master?”

“Yes.”

“Where is she?”

The raven did not answer. It beat its wings several times to rise over her head and left the matter hanging in the air.

The way through the cave was more difficult now as they climbed up hill. Yet, they reached the other side without mishap and continued down the steps. The dragons scurried down, jumping on one another as they went. Alexis giggled at the rambunctious reptiles.

“Mind the box, Your Highness,“ the raven reminded as it glided alongside her.

Alexis sobered, hugging the box close to her to make sure she did not drop it.

They reached the bottom of the stairs as the suns moved to midday. The dragons sprinted toward camp and the smell of food.

“Cadmus, Eja wait for me,” Alexis ran after them, dropping the box.

The box hovered in the air as the raven flew next to it. Shaking its head, the raven continued its lazy flight. The box floated after it.

* * *

“Aldous has searched north and south,” M’zuzi sighed. “We could send him across the desert to search for the Princess, but if the clouds gather, he will not be able to fly far.”

“Alexis isn’t across the desert!” Xavier snapped and threw his tin cup of water into the fire. His head ached from worry and lack of sleep. The others exchanged glances at his outburst. “She’s gone up the sunlit stair to Centaur Valley.”

“Xavier, there is no stair,” Park shook his head. “Aldous has already flown over the mountain ridge. M’zuzi said he found no stair.”

The knight had found Xavier among the horses in the early morning and brought him back to camp to rest. Xavier was pale. He seemed to have aged years in the passage of the night. The Princess had simply vanished, and no one knew how to help him.

“Why do you believe Alexis has gone there?” Tavel asked, not so willing to dismiss the possibility.

“I—it’s a feeling,” Xavier answered, running his hand through his hair. He would not break his promise even in such circumstances.

Tavel was not convinced by the King’s excuse. As he moved to say more, Cadmus and Eja scampered into the circle of people. The dragons barked and tumbled over one another. They chirped as they searched for food.

“Cadmus! Eja!” Xavier yelled, jumping to his feet. “Where’s Alexis?”

“Abu!”