“They say our gift is a curse, but to us it is power!” Ornella continued. “We may have been cursed originally for arrogance. Damn the sea fortune teller, but the curse has turned out far from harmful. A generation has passed, and it has become a boon. Who else but us can stand up to the water army?”
“Be quiet before you bring them here,” Orvel said, “they have windows to our world all around them. Maybe there’s someone spying on us now, too. It is someone with tentacles and fins.”
“So be it!” Ornella threw her self-confidently, trying on the crown of her long-dead mother. “Give me the power, and I will prove that I can overpower the Morgens, and even subdue them to us.”
The king nodded cheerfully.
“It is a good suggestion!”
Isn’t it a little premature for them to boast of their powers! Lilophea would have liked to ask them for help, but her tongue was numb. And how would Ornella react if the sunken cousin now stepped over the window sill into the throne room?
“Ornella!” Lilophea tried to catch her gaze, but her cousin did not see her.
“I am the best, I am the most gifted with our cursed gift, I will rule!” Ornella insisted, her chin high. Her eagle-nosed, hooked nose spoiled the impression of a graceful face. It seemed about to turn into an eagle’s beak.
A hooked nose was the hallmark of the entire Sultanite’s dynasty. Only Condor the youngest of the princes did not have it. He was the prettiest, as if he were an extra in the family. And he was not part of the general argument.
“Prove you’re the best,” the Sultanite’s king pressed his ringed hand into a fist. One of the rings suspiciously resembled an eagle’s claw set in gold. “I am waiting! You forget that a fleet from Shalian is coming for us. Release the claws! Fly to it! Attacking flocks of sheep and merchant ships is innocent fun. I expect more from you! It’s dangerous! You could get shot! But whoever defeats the commander of the fleet will rule.”
“It will be me!” Ornella and her brother Orvel said in one voice.
Lilophea shrank back. The king seemed to notice her. His gaze went straight to her for a second, and it seemed to her that his eyes had become eagle eyes. He definitely said “fly,” not “walk.” Is that some kind of metaphor?
The king’s nose seemed to lengthen a little, and gleamed in the sun like steel. Is it a play on light? Lilophea looked and could hardly believe her eyes. Ornella dropped to the floor, began to scrub the marble slabs with her nails. Her body was shrinking, growing feathers. The same thing was happening to all her brothers. There were no princes or princesses left in a matter of minutes. Gyrfalcons swarmed across the throne room.
They’re going to fly to the window! Lilophea recoiled before she realized there were many windows in the hall.
The eagles flew away, but the king stayed. So he’s normal, unlike them? You mean he’s not a werewolf? But he is the father of monstrous children, which is also not sugar. The other one would have been afraid of them; he had learned to use their inferiority to his advantage.
Lilophea immediately dismissed the idea that the king himself was only human, barely noticing the sharp feathery paws that tapped the armrests of the throne. He was about to become an eagle, too, to fly and control the bloodthirsty flocks of his heirs.
It’s time to run away from here. Here, instead of help, all you’ll get is to be taken hostage and torn apart.
“You’re right! Ornella has always been jealous of you! And now that you’re queen before she is, she’ll be glad to get her bird claws into your tender neck,” the bridge spirit whispered to her.
She could flee from a whole dynasty of werewolf eagles, but she could not flee from the spirit’s advice. He flew after her, muttering something about how eagle flocks couldn’t fly into these magic bridges, or they would tear her to pieces. She is queen of the seas now, and they hate all morgens. And these are her relatives! Her cousins from an ancient royal family actually turned out to be eagles! Well, isn’t that a surprise!
Paths to Magic
Lilothea ran as fast as she could. She turned around a couple of times to see if the eagles were flying after her.
“Turning around is a bad habit,” the spirit of the bridge immediately pointed out. “Besides, you mustn’t look back here, or you’ll get so lost that you won’t be able to get out later.”
“What ill-timed advice is it,” said Lilophea. She was furious.
“Anyway, I’m so lost that I can’t find my way back now.”
“Which way is that?”
Lilophea pondered. The spirit had succeeded in puzzling her. Indeed, where did she want to go? Is it home to Aquilania? But everyone there will be frightened that she has come back. The whole Morgens’ army would most likely come looking for her. And then there’s no way to avoid a war with them. No one will think she’s the one to blame for running away. Her escape would be the perfect excuse to attack the people of Aquilania again.
Does she want to go back to the underwater kingdom? She probably does, because there are many wonders, pleasures, luxuries. And most importantly, there is Seal. As soon as she thought about it, she saw the azure steps under one of the bridges that had suddenly appeared nearby, steps that went straight down from the bridge into the water. All she had to do was cross that bridge and go back.
“it is better not!” The spirit of the bridge held her back, and a mighty gust of rainbow wind blew through her, instantly separating her from the path to the strange bridge. “If you go, I’ll never see you again!”
“Won’t you miss me?”
“Of course I will. You should know how boring it is to wander here. All bridges lead somewhere: some to civilized countries, some to magical lands, and some to islands inhabited by tribes of savages. But spirits cannot go to any of them. They can only hover over bridges.”
“That’s sad,” Lilophea agreed. “Is that why you won’t let anyone leave, because you can’t?” She guessed.
“You should know how few guests come in here,” the spirit tried to justify himself. He looked like a disgraced little bully boy.
“You know what? If you promise to come back to the bridges in an hour, I can take you to the windows of the palaces, where the festivities are taking place. Do you want to go to a ball? Morgens love masquerades, by the way. The only way to spot them is to see their wet footprints on the floor.”
Lilophea had her doubts, but she wanted to go to the ball.
“You look wonderful,” the bridge spirit urged her on. “It is such a magnificent dress of sea foam! None of the earthlings will know what it’s made of. They’ll think you’re a particularly talented dressmaker.”
“You know so much about human manners, though you assure me you have no way into their lands.”
“Well, I hear much of what they say when I fly up to the windows where the ends of our bridges approach,” the spirit gently wrapped his arms around her waist and turned her to the path of his choice at the crossing of the seven bridges. “You’ve overheard a lot of interesting things yourself just now, watching under the window of the Sultan’s palace.”
Lilophea walked obediently where the spirit directed her, while he himself hovered beside her.
“Were these griffins really so dangerous that they could peck a morgen?”
The spirit must have known that, but he pondered for a long moment.
“I could fly over and watch them carve up the Shalian fleet, but then