Trinity's Book Read online

  That must be the throne room or cloud room or whatever they call King Shyne’s seat of power, I thought.

  It would not be hard to find once I was free.

  My lift continued down past the courtyard floor into a dark gray mist that cloaked the lower levels. The elevator didn’t lurch to a stop but settled gently into the cushioning cloud floor. I stepped off without being asked rather than wait for the guards to prod or shock me.

  “Go that way!” A guard pointed to the left.

  I had a very bad feeling as I walked down a dark corridor. The walls were solid with no doors or windows. We passed two open doorways. The cells were the size of closets, and the walls were a foot thick.

  When the mist men shoved me into the next open cell, my suspicions about dungeon security were confirmed. A guard touched the outside wall, and that was the last thing I saw before the doorway sealed shut with foam-rock.

  I was trapped in total darkness with no way out.

  I tried not to panic.

  On the bright side, the guards had not taken my things, and the feather was still in my pack. Since the mist men had never seen a fairy-godmother-in-training, they may have thought the equipment was part of me. The kite resembled wings and the baby had imprinted with wings.

  “Lucky for me,” I mumbled as I retrieved the feather.

  With no light, I explored the door and walls with my fingers. The surface was smooth with no imperfections. Did Queen Patchouli know how the cloud dungeon worked when she gave me the feather? The lock was on the outside of the cell. I couldn’t reach it with the quill. Then, remembering that I had planned to use the feather as a weapon against Kasandria before I discovered it was a magical key—

  My mind reeled, and I froze.

  A lot of odd things had happened since I woke up in Aventurine, and somewhere along the line I had begun to accept them without trying to explain every little thing. But when had I concluded that magic was real? My mother had always insisted it was part of my heritage, and for thirteen years I had rejected the idea as impossible.

  I liked order and rules so I knew what to expect.

  I never knew what to expect in the fairy world. There was a surprise, a challenge, or something unbelievably incredible around every corner, or rather up every tree branch and on every cloud.

  And I had loved every magical minute.

  Except for the melon mush, Hoon, and Kasandria.

  And being locked in a dungeon.

  I ran my finger along the edge of the soft feather. Magic was the only rational explanation for the quill’s ability to unlock any lock.

  And the dark cell would be no exception.

  “Do your stuff, feather,” I said as I placed the pointed quill against the rock.

  Nothing happened. But I refused to give up. I began methodically moving the quill back and forth along the walls. The feather was quiet in my hand until it hit the back corner. The foam-rock on the rear wall was much thinner, and the quill sliced through it.

  “Yes!” I hissed softly, and paused.

  Why had the mist men eliminated doors and windows to prevent escapes and then built a back wall that a determined prisoner could punch through?

  There had to be something on the other side that was more terrifying than being in the king’s jail.

  I cut a small opening to look through, but I just uncovered more cloud material. It wasn’t as dense as foam-rock, and after enlarging the hole, I made a space behind the wall by pulling gobs of it into the cell. The spongy cloud stuff ran about two feet out from the rear of the cell and along the outside of the underground wall. When I tried to make the space deeper, I hit hard rock that the quill couldn’t even scratch.

  Real rocks from below that enclosed the boiling moat, I realized. The rocks weren’t warm to the touch, but they were more secure than solid foam-rock walls for keeping mist people confined.

  I couldn’t leave the cell until I made some adjustments. I took the kite off my harness, removed the string and the silky bark covering from the frame, loosened the middle cross tie, and then rolled it all up. If necessary, I could put the kite back together in a hurry. For now, it was compact enough to fit through tight spaces. I slipped the rolled kite lengthwise under the harness straps on my back.

  Holding the feather in my teeth, I tunneled with my hands, moving the spongy cloud behind me as I worked my way toward the cell next to mine. When I placed the quill against the rear wall, it easily cut through the thin foam-rock. I was inside the cell in less than a minute, and the doorway was still open.

  I could only see a few feet through the dark gray mist outside the doorway. Although I was pretty sure the corridor wasn’t patrolled, I paused to listen. There was no sound—no cries for help or squeaky mist rats or slushy footsteps. I put the feather in my pack and retraced my way back to the lift.

  The elevator wasn’t there, and I turned left toward the interior of the castle before someone could ride a lift down and find me. I moved cautiously, keeping my hand on the wall. Ten minutes later, I reached a transport tube going up.

  The twelve-inch tube was constructed of transparent, superdense cloud material and was attached to a not-so-dense track. After a little experimentation, I realized I could grip the outside of the tube with my arms and make toeholds by jamming my feet into the track.

  No different from climbing a rock wall back home, I thought as I started up.

  Nothing extraordinary happened on the lower levels, but just before I reached the ground floor, I hit a junction. While I straddled the midpoint of the intersecting tubes, two mist people streams rushed toward me from opposite directions. I froze, terrified. What if they could see me? I watched in fascination, expecting them to stop or sound an alarm.

  The mist-people-don’t-mix rule was absolute. Both streams elongated into thin ribbons, and the travelers passed each other unharmed. I hoped they had been going too fast to notice the fairylike invader clinging to the outside of their public transportation system.

  The tube entered the main castle behind a line of parked clouds. I used my feather knife to cut a larger opening in the floor and peeked out. The large courtyard was bustling with activity.

  Official-looking mist people in pastel robes conferred in groups or hurried in and out of doorways as though their business was of extreme importance. People in simpler outfits stood by bins filled with leaves and flowers, which they gave to anyone who stopped. Other mist people fed leaves to resting bubble beasts.

  Filling up to power the cloud carriages, I thought with a smile.

  My position was directly across from the oval doorway where Voog had gone with the fairy baby, but the courtyard was too crowded and dangerous to cross.

  I ducked down when a mom and two mist children boarded a parked cloud nearby.

  “We want to go outside,” one child said.

  “Outside!” the smaller one repeated.

  “Nobody flies a cloud outside,” the mom replied. She pushed a bubble creature into a hollow tube on one end of the cloud. “If a strong wind comes along, we’d be swept away and lost in the lands below. Never to be seen again,” she added in an ominous tone.

  The kids’ black eyes widened and shivers rippled across their watery backs. They huddled in the middle of the cloud when the mom broke a tether in two, tilted the bubble beast, and patted the creature’s back. It burped, expelling bubbles, and the cloud shot upward. When the carriage reached the desired elevation, the mist mom leveled the animal and patted it again.

  As the family floated away, I realized a cloud carriage would give me plenty of cover to cross the courtyard. I was pretty certain I could figure out how to drive, but the clouds parked nearby didn’t have bubble creatures. I took the next best option and crept to the nearest cloud, climbed on, and broke the tether.

  Mist people seemed to ignore drifting clouds unless the clouds hit them. Then they just pushed them aside. I wouldn’t be seen, but the cloud moved so slowly it might be hours before it got to the far
side of the courtyard. I had no choice but to hunker down and wait.

  The floor of the cloud car hardened to hold me, but the sides remained soft and malleable. I made a rectangular hole that I could see through and still keep my head down and hidden. For the first few minutes, my cloud hovered, barely moving. Then a bubble-powered cloud bumped into it, and it shot off—straight toward the oval door.

  My cloud was bumped and sent sailing off in several directions before it finally came close to the throne room wall.

  Two stories up.

  I made another hole in the side of the cloud for my arm and held on to a tube track. Looking down, I saw that the oval opening was much larger than it appeared from the far side of the castle. Two guards with lightning poles flanked the door. Then suddenly, four more armed men rushed out. All six altered shape to appear more rigid and battle ready.

  It seemed like they had just gone on alert.

  Did they know I had escaped?

  If so, they probably didn’t know where to look. Escaped prisoners usually leave the building.

  A large blue cloud car pulled alongside me, carrying a regal mist person who had to be Queen Sonja. Slightly larger than other mist people, she wore sunshine-yellow puffs on her head and sky-blue robes. Two mist ladies in the car with her controlled bubble beasts.

  I exhaled slowly. The guards weren’t looking for me. They were awaiting the arrival of the queen.

  “It’s a fairy baby, Your Majesty,” one of the ladies said. “She’s not your responsibility.”

  “It’s still a baby,” Queen Sonja pointed out. “And it’s probably hungry.”

  “What do fairies eat?” the other lady asked.

  “I heard they dine on bugs and plant roots they pull out of dirt.” The first lady made a disgusted noise. “And they grind it all up with the hard claws in their mouths.”

  “Disgusting,” the queen said.

  Time to catch a ride, I thought as I slipped my arm through the side of my car. I grabbed the tether dangling from the queen’s car as it passed and held on when my cloud was jerked forward.

  I wasn’t sure what my next move would be. A lot depended on whether anyone asked Queen Sonja why she had a second cloud in tow. But at least I was getting closer to the baby every second.

  I’d worry about how to get away after I had the little fairy in my arms.

  I worried about Moa now. Where was he? Could he get off the cloud domain without falling? There had to be plenty of nice people in Aventurine who would welcome a bird with such a good heart, even if he couldn’t fly. Like the Curipoo!

  Thinking about Jango and Targa gave me a boost. I had to get back to the Willowood with Queen Patchouli’s successor. I had promised my friends.

  Through the peephole, I saw the six guards form a line between the throne room door and the courtyard. As the queen’s car descended and turned to enter, I held my breath, but no one broke rank to separate the two clouds as we passed through the doorway.

  King Shyne and Queen Sonja’s throne room was plain compared to how I had always imagined a throne room would look. Rather than being decorated with gold, silver, and jewels, it was pastel blue with a blazing yellow sunburst on the wall behind the massive, fluffy cloud thrones. Sunlight streamed in through a huge lattice-covered window higher on the same wall. Cultivated garden patches with leaves and flowers were randomly placed around the cavernous room. Four catlike mist animals romped in a corner. A few mist people lounged on clouds, snacked on leaves, or waited on the sidelines to speak with the king, a privilege that was difficult if not impossible today.

  The fairy baby was lying in a cloud cradle at the king’s feet, and she was screaming.

  I waited and watched, hatching a plan.

  “Can you make it stop?” King Shyne pleaded with the queen when she stepped out of her car.

  “I’ve tried everything I can think of,” Voog said. He sounded distraught.

  “I’m sure you have, Voog.” Queen Sonja gently touched the baby’s wet face. “You can go. We appreciate everything you’ve done.”

  Voog bowed slightly and backed away. As he left, the two ladies-in-waiting left the queen’s cloud car and walked to a garden at the far end of the chamber. None of the other mist people were anxious to get near the fairy child, either, which simplified things for me.

  “Did you feed her?” the queen asked her husband.

  “We tried,” the king said. “I had infant formula brought in, but she doesn’t like leaf sprouts.”

  The king appeared to be more distressed than the old man, and the queen left the baby to console him.

  There was no more time to think. I jumped out of my cloud car, picked up the baby, and got into the queen’s car. The hungry little fairy continued to cry after I placed her on the floor, but feeding her had to wait until we were safely away. Remembering everything I had seen, I tilted both bubble beasts and patted their backs.

  “Intruder!” someone shouted.

  “Where?” the king asked, looking frantic.

  By the time the royal couple discovered the baby was gone, I was fifteen feet in the air and climbing. Then I re-aimed the bubble beasts and headed straight for the lattice. As we neared, I draped the bark sling over the baby’s face.

  The delicate crisscrossed network of ice crystals and cloud was as fragile as it looked. The queen’s carriage plowed through it, sending a rain of shattered ice falling on the throne room below.

  “Get her back!” the king shouted.

  “But don’t hurt the baby!” the queen commanded.

  “Yee-haw!” I yelled as the car sailed out of the castle, over the steaming moat, and into the clear blue skies above the cloud domain.

  Luckily, the winds were light, and the cloud wasn’t in danger of being carried away. I had to feed the baby, but I needed both hands on the bubble creatures to direct them. I hoped Moa had done as I asked: hide and stay free in case I needed help.

  I steered low over the maze and found the big bird sitting between two shrubs near the crystal pool of life. He looked frightened when he spotted my carriage and jumped up to run.

  “Moa!” I shouted. “It’s me!”

  The bird stopped and looked back up. “Trinity! You came back to get me!”

  “And you waited for me!” I laughed. Then I realized that I wasn’t quite sure how to land. Hoping my logic was correct, I aimed the bubble beasts up and tapped their backs. The cloud descended, but it went down too fast. At the last second, I reversed the beasts and tapped again.

  The cloud carriage hovered without touching the ground.

  “Where did you learn to drive?” Moa asked as he hopped in.

  “I took the castle crash course,” I joked. “Which way to the edge near the tree?”

  The bird pointed with his head.

  As we sped back into the sky, the king’s air force zoomed out of the castle. We had a head start, but the mist men’s cloud carriages were equipped with fully fueled, rested bubble beasts. They would catch up eventually—unless we got to the border first.

  “Can you steer?” I asked Moa. “I’ll take care of the little fairy queen.”

  “Yes,” the bird said as we switched places.

  I picked up the little warm bundle and carefully brushed away any lingering bits of ice and cloud left over from crashing through the lattice. Moving aside the sling’s fabric, I revealed the baby’s squalling face. So far, Queen Patchouli’s assurance that I’d have everything I needed to complete the mission had been 100 percent true. I doubted she had overlooked the fact that babies have to eat. With the new queen cradled in my arms, I put the never-gone sweet potato up to her tiny mouth. The potato end elongated like a baby bottle, and the little fairy began to drink. After a few minutes, she was sound asleep. I put her down and picked up the kite.

  “Now we can hear ourselves think,” I said as I fastened the cross sticks together.

  “And talk,” Moa said. “You can’t fly a cloud carriage off the Cantigo Uplands. T
he bubble beasts won’t survive.”

  “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt them,” I said. “The carriage just has to get us to the edge. The kite flew us up here, and it will get us down.” A sudden realization hit me. “Except—”

  “You can only take one of us with you,” the bird said matter-of-factly. “And you have to take the baby. That’s your mission.”

  “Yes.” I felt awful about leaving Moa behind. “Will you be okay?”

  “Are you kidding?” The bird puffed up again. “I was turned into a bird with no wings, almost killed by a mean fairy, barely escaped being eaten by a spoonga, and carried high over land by birds. Of course I’ll be okay.”

  I took the feather out of my pack and tucked it into the feathers on his back.

  “I want you to have this,” I said. “So you’ll never forget that you’re a hero.”

  “I’ll keep it on one condition,” Moa said.

  “What’s that?” I picked up the silky bark kite covering.

  “The kite didn’t fly us up here, Trinity. You did.”

  “No, the kite—”

  The bird cut me off. “The kite is a crutch. You’re a fairy-godmother-in-training. You have magic. You have to trust it.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked.

  “I’m saying you don’t need a kite.” Moa looked me in the eye. “You can fly. You just have to believe it.”

  I frowned, wanting to believe but not trusting it. I stopped talking and concentrated on the kite. When it was complete, I set it aside and started working on a belly sling for the baby. I finished that just as the cloud carriage cleared the first of the three ridges Moa and I had climbed yesterday.

  “How close are the mist men?” Moa asked.

  “They’re gaining,” I said, “but I think we’ll beat them.”

  “You’ll make it,” the bird said.

  Maybe not, I thought when the cloud car almost stalled over the second ridge.