Page 109 of Minor Works of Meda

“Is that a yes?” I asked.

It bobbed its head again.

“Is it alive? Or is it just pretending?” Oraik asked, bending over to peer face-to-face with the little thing. It chirped at him.

“I haven’t got a clue. Whatever the answer, it seems to understand. At least let’s hope so, or we’ll be lost before we’ve even started.”

“That way?” He pointed in the direction the bird had tried to take flight. It chirped again.

I needed my hands free to cast. I lifted my cupped hand to my shoulder. The bird transferred there and curled its thick wooden talons around the weave of my cotton dress.

Chapter 50

“Look!” I hissed. I grabbed Oraik’s bicep and stared wide-eyed into the depths of the woods. We’d been walking then for about fifteen minutes, following the bird’s chirped directions through the shadowed forest floor. The scents of cedar and pine perfumed a gentle breeze; underneath it all ran a current of decay.

“What?” Oraik looked all around before following the point of my finger.

A flickering figure danced on thin, lacy wings before rising into the dense wall of greenery above our heads.

“I don’t see anything,” Oraik complained. “It’s just trees, trees, and more trees.”

“It’s gone now.”

“Well, what was it?”

“Some sort of faerie, I think.”

We walked on. The trees grew denser. It was still early morning, but it felt almost like night. The foliage strangled out the sun, leaving the woods in perpetual dusk. Every now and then I saw dancing lights or figures up ahead. I resisted the urge to follow, staying carefully on the course the bird directed.

When the trees thinned again, our surroundings brightened considerably. Bits of rare gold light dappled the ground.

“Do you think it’s lunchtime yet?” Oraik asked.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s lunchtime.”

“A sensible way to think,” he told me with a grin.

“There’s a rock up ahead. Should we sit?” I suggested, nodding to a flat, mossy stone just a little to our right. It was big enough to serve as both bench and table for the two of us. Oraik hefted his shoulder-bag and nodded agreement.

We turned towards it. The bird whistled shrilly in my ear.

“Yes, I know,” I told it. “We’re just looking for a place to sit. We won’t be off path long.”

The bird whistled again, long and low.

“I hope that’s just agreement. That could get annoying,” I said to Oraik.

“Considering it seems to understand what you’re saying, perhaps don’t insult it?”

“Sorry, bird. You’ve been quite helpful already.”

The bird shrieked again.

“Maybe it’s worried you’ll snap its neck.”

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