Revised 1/14/2020...

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The Customer Is (Not) Always Right

Chapter 7: Blue Feathers

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I run up the bridge to the Isle of the Goddess, scouring the skies for a speck of deep blue. I was hesitant to close up my shop so early, but I'll need a good couple hours of daylight to find that bird. And after weighing the outcomes, I decided this is a chance I simply can't let pass me by. What can I say? I'm an opportunist.

I make it up the hill and pass through the marble gate into the statue courtyard. The Isle of the Goddess is a popular resting place for loftwings, so if that girl's bird is still hanging around, there's a good chance it will be here. I sweep my gaze around the courtyard. Several loftwings are roosting among the white pillars, standing on one foot with their heads tucked into their shoulders, but none of them are hers.

I put up a hand to shield my eyes from the sun and look up above the statue. More birds of varying colors are drifting in lazy circles above the Goddess's head; grey, gold, brown, dark green, pale blue. Not the right blue.

Just then, I spy the bird I'm looking for high above the others. It's just hanging in the air like a kite, so high up that it appears tiny in comparison to the lower-flying birds. I keep an eye on its silhouette for a little while, pacing along the base of the Goddess statue. Before long, the vivid blue bird breaks away from the rest of the group and soars northward.

I make for the pier branching off from the courtyard, sensing Wingy nearby. That unmistakeable air of indifference. That's when I notice a bundle of green feathers snoozing behind the statue. I slide to a stop.

"Wingy!"

Without lifting her head, she opens one yellow eye and fixes me in her fierce gaze. I feel a flash of annoyance that isn't mine.

I implore her with a raise of my eyebrow, "Wingy. We have important work to do."

For a few more seconds she just stares at me, like she thinks I might change my mind if she's stubborn enough. I give her a stern glare and cross my arms. When it's obvious I'm not going to give in, she fluffs her feathers and takes an unhurried stretch. Then in a few wing flaps, she quickly closes the distance between us and crouches beside me.

"Follow that blue bird," I instruct her, securing myself to her back. "Yah!"

Wingy takes off after the blue loftwing. The other bird got a head start, but we can still catch up. A strong headwind whips around us, quickly turning my ears cold. The heavy winds are hindering Wingy's flying quite a bit, but she adjusts accordingly and stays her course, pursuing the other bird through a string of floating boulders.

Out of nowhere, a large projectile comes flying straight at my head. I let out a surprised yell and duck to avoid it, throwing myself flat against Wingy's back. Staying low, I climb back up to her shoulders and scan the floating rocks up ahead. I quickly locate the assailant: an enormous, bright pink squid. An octorok. It's suctioned to the side of one of the floating boulders, its bloated head sagging over a pair of menacing green eyes. An alarming sucking noise reaches my ears. It's preparing another shot.

The octorok's body contracts. I yank Wingy's belt to the right and she veers out of the way, banking at a sharp angle. I let out a curse as a pellet the size of my head hurtles past me. Without having to be told, Wingy levels and beats her wings in succession to get out of range of the octorok's projectiles. I twist around and keep a cautious eye on the creature without loosing my grip on Wingy's belt. It spits another pellet after us, but this one loses momentum before it reaches us and plummets below the clouds.

Sheesh. Barely a mile outside Skyloft and I'm having to dodge octorok bullets? Those good-for-nothing knights aren't doing their jobs. One of their duties is to take the nasty things down before they can start reproducing and spreading their havoc. Keese? No sweat. Remlits? Usually not a problem unless you're an idiot who makes a habit of taking leisurely walks in the middle of the night. But octoroks can do major damage if left unchecked.

A couple years ago, the knights let things go and things got real interesting. An entire colony of octos swarmed Skyloft, slithering rampantly through the streets and shooting at every person in sight. The entire town was in chaos. People barricaded themselves inside their homes. The knights were going crazy trying to exterminate all the pests, lining up at my shop to replace broken shield after broken shield. Lining up. It was great! Even civilians were rushing to the Bazaar to buy my shields. I made so much money that week...

Never mind. The knights can let the octoroks breed up a storm for all I care.

Now that we've gained on the blue bird a bit, I have Wingy angle upward and ascend to its height, keeping a firm stance so I don't slide backwards. It's still flying northwest, along the Thunderhead. Lovely. Even at this distance, the massive, never-ending storm can pose a danger, spinning off a near-constant onslaught of invisible whirlwinds and updrafts. The absolute last thing I need slowing me down right now. I cling tightly to Wingy's back and give the rotating mass of storm clouds a wide berth, trying to ignore the cold, harsh wind that's battering my face and making my eyes water. I focus on keeping the blue loftwing in sight. It's slipping further and further away from us again, not having its own rider to bear, and now Wingy is rapidly growing exhausted from having to battle the wind. Isn't the other bird getting tired too? It has to land eventually.

Finally, the blue bird begins to descend. I squint ahead and see that it's flying toward a rocky landmass with tall, jagged spires jutting up from it. Giant birds' nests constructed of mud and miscellaneous vegetation sit atop some of the spires. The blue loftwing glides down to the rugged island and dips out of view, behind some tall rocks.

I take Wingy down on the near side of the island, keeping out of sight of the blue bird. For a minute, I sit still on her back and listen. It's so quiet out here, aside from the low, continuous howl of the Thunderhead. We must have traveled at least one third of its perimeter. Feeling a little paranoid, I look over my shoulder to make sure no one followed me, but all I can see are a few lone loftwings gliding leisurely in the distance. It suddenly strikes me as odd that I didn't pass a single rider on my way here. The skies are unusually traffic-less today.

"Stay close," I tell Wingy as I hop to ground. I swivel around to her front and stare her the eyes. "Don't even think about ditching me like you did on Hippie Isle."

She cocks her head to one side with a pluck of mischief.

"Because if I get speared in the neck, you won't be able to live with yourse-OW!"

Wingy nudges me in the gut with her bill and bowls me over, sending me sprawling on the ground. I have to smack her away to keep her from assaulting me.

"Hold on! Just hold on! Sheesh, so demanding," I grumble, struggling to my feet. I reach into my apron and take out one of the bird treats I bought earlier today. As soon as she sees the treat, Wingy hops back a step and utters an impatient rasp, eyeing it hungrily. I toss it above her head and she snaps it up in one gulp. There is no hiding food from Wingy.

I gather myself and head inland, growing increasingly more nervous about the confrontation ahead of me. Loftwings' personalities can be as diverse and unpredictable as humans'. Some birds are fairly docile and will let most anybody approach and even touch them. And some birds are...more like Wingy. Hostile and moody. She doesn't have a particularly aggressive disposition and won't attack unprovoked, but she doesn't take kindly to strangers invading her space. To this day, she will still lash out at anyone or anything that's not me.

I pick my away over the craggy landscape and scale a series of short cliffs, moving more quietly once I think I've reached the rocks I saw the blue loftwing disappear behind. Sure enough, I sneak around the rocks and come upon the bird. It's facing away from me, busily tearing away at whatever it is he's caught for dinner.

The bird has a long tail, which means it's a male. A good sign. Females tend to become territorial during nesting season, regardless of whether they're raising chicks or not. Hormones...I would know. Still, that doesn't guarantee my safety. All loftwings are equipped with the tools of a predator: broad bills with sharp hooks on the ends and giant talons that taper to dangerous points. Thank the Goddess they don't see humans as prey. There is nothing stopping them from starting a rebellion and killing us all, if they wanted to.

Suddenly, I become very aware of my heart palpitating in my chest. And here I am, an idiot armed with nothing but a pair of scissors.

I swallow my nerves and inch out from my hiding place, moving toward the loftwing one tiny step at a time. Seemingly unaware of my presence, the bird lifts one foot and scrapes at his face, trying to rid himself of a tuft of dirty black feathers stuck on his bill. Upon closer inspection, I see he's feasting on the carcass of a plump black bird—a guay. Which he has decapitated. A disembodied head lies a little ways off, and bloody entrails are strewn across the rocky ground. My stomach churns at the sight. I think I'm going to be sick.

Suddenly, the blue loftwing hears my footsteps and snaps his head in my direction. I freeze on the spot. Keeping his sharp eyes locked on me, he slowly places a protective foot over the half-eaten guay. Like I'm here to steal that filthy thing.

I gradually begin to creep closer, making no sudden movements. The bird remains motionless, observing me with caution. This so nerve wracking. Part of me wants to give up and walk away, but I didn't come all this way for nothing. And I certainly didn't come unprepared.

Very slowly, with my eyes still on the loftwing, I reach into my apron and remove two large handfuls of the special treats I bought. He immediately perks up with interest, his stature becoming quite a bit friendlier. These aren't just any old treats. Apparently, they're made of dried and compressed octorok flesh, which is absolutely disgusting. But to loftwings, it's a rare, highly sought-after delicacy. Better than eating guay, anyway. How good can a dirty little bird that tries to defecate on everything that moves taste?

In one carefully calculated toss, I scatter the treats near the bird's feet. He steps over the guay carcass, takes one whiff, and begins gobbling them up ravenously.

Without a second to lose, I dart to his side and slip out my scissors. He doesn't pay me any more mind, completely preoccupied with the octo treats I gave him. I take a few light snips here and there, avoiding his white flight feathers. As far as I know, this isn't illegal. It might be frowned upon, but it's not illegal. Besides, the bird will probably lose most of these the next time he molts anyway. It would be a sin to let such beautiful feathers go to waste!

When the bird has eaten most of the treats, I throw some more in front of him to keep him distracted and go back to clip more feathers, working swiftly and unobtrusively. I stay for as long as I dare, until I've got around twenty-five of them. Satisfied, I empty my apron of treats and get the heck out of there, breaking into a swift run. I smile to myself. That went much more smoothly than expected!

I put on a little burst of speed in my elation, nearly tripping down a cliff and twisting my ankle. Stumbling a bit, I don't slow down to catch my breath until Wingy comes back into sight. Relief washes over me. I did it.

I jog the rest of the way to my own guardian bird and pat her on the back of the neck, feeling like I am tagging home base after a long, traumatizing game of hide and seek. She doesn't react to my touch. She is stock still, focused on something out in the sky.

I follow her gaze. That's when I see three flat, dark shapes on the horizon, growing bigger by the second. A knight squad, flying in arrow formation. With a start, I realize they're coming this way. No way. There's no way they saw that...did they?

Thinking fast, I overturn a large rock lying nearby and pile the blue feathers underneath it, putting Wingy between myself and the approaching knight squad to block their view. Illegal or no, I'm not taking any chances. I start to replace the rock, then at last second I think to hide the scissors too and I throw them in with the feathers. I smash the rock on top of my treasure, pressing it into the earth. I take a moment to compose myself, breathing a little easier now that the evidence is hidden away. It could be nothing. They could just be doing a spot check.

I climb onto Wingy casually just as the knights arrive on the island. One after another, the three silver loftwings throw out their wings and drift to a gradual stop, treading the air. Both the knights and their birds are wearing protective flight headgear that obscures their eyes. The blue-clad knight at the forefront of the group, presumably the captain, is the first to alight before me. He's solidly-built and sports a prickly blonde beard. The other two follow suite soon after, flanking him on either side; one, a red-clad woman with creamy skin and a hooked nose, the other, a tall green knight with a strong jawline and a lopsided smirk that looks uncannily familiar. Wingy shies away from them and takes on a guarded air, as she often does when there are a lot of other birds in the vicinity.

I gulp to myself. I'm obviously in trouble here. I make a last ditch decision to play dumb. "Hello!" I say smoothly, not betraying a single trace of the nervousness building up inside me. I flash a carefree grin to each of the knights in turn. "Windy day today, isn't it?"

Wingy clacks her bill at them threateningly, completely botching my friendly hello.

The knight in the blue uniform comes forward. "You're under arrest for being out during a flying ban," he says to me.

"What?!" That's not what I expected at all! "W-what do you mean, there's a ban?" I stumble over my words, my friendly act crumbling. "I have heard nothing of the sort!"

"It just went into action this morning," explains the blue knight. "Civilians have been ordered to remain grounded while we investigate some unnatural weather patterns. The other day, a big black tornado ripped a girl clean off her bird and carried her below the cloud barrier."

"A tornado?!" my voice cracks. I can scarcely contain my shock. Tornado? A tornado?! That's how that girl went missing?

"Think cyclone, only ten times bigger and ten times more dangerous," the female knight interjects. Gee, thanks for the enlightening info, honey.

"I know what a tornado is!" I sputter, a bit too forcefully. I attempt to regain my composure. "Look, I knew nothing. I heard nothing. Nobody mentioned a tornado or a flying ban or any of that! The only sin I committed was to go out for a joyride, blissfully unaware that conditions were unsafe, and now you're going to arrest me? An innocent, ill-informed civilian?"

"Well, yes," replies the blue knight, "you still broke the law."

I snort in disbelief. "Come, now. Do you think if I knew there was a flying ban, I would purposely try to pull a fast one? Certainly not with knights as keen-eyed and vigilant as yourselves on the lookout. No one's that stupid!"

The blue knight just shakes his head, immune to my flattery. "You're going to have to come with us." He jumps down from his loftwing, bending his knees to absorb the shock. "Dismount your bird," he intructs me in a commanding voice, rising up to his full height.

The wind howls over my silence. A rash idea crosses my mind, and for a split second I seriously consider taking off and making a break for it. My hesitation is enough to make the knights wary of me. As if sensing my thoughts, the blue knight takes a large step forward, outstretching a cautious hand. Wingy tenses at his approach and retracts her neck, like a snake preparing to strike. She's radiating a feeling of, go ahead, I dare you to stick that hand in my face. The other two knights hover closer on their loftwings, making her even more uneasy. She can't handle all these strange birds gaining up on her. With a sinking feeling, I realize I am in no position to refuse. Wingy isn't exactly the strongest flyer, and these are fully trained knights. I don't want to get into any more trouble than I'm already in.

I climb down off of Wingy and surrender, coming forward. As soon as I'm a safe distance from my bird, the knights confiscate my apron and pat me down, but they find nothing but crumbs. In that moment, all I can think about is how thankful I am that I got rid of all the evidence. When they're done, the blue knight produces a rope and starts tying my wrists together. I wince in discomfort as he pulls it a little too tight.

Just then, I hear a soft croon behind me. I turn to see Wingy fixated on me, wide-eyed with confusion. Sure, now she cares. Only took me getting detained in front of her.

"Go home, Wingy. Go back to sleep," I tell her in a firm voice. The green knight tries and fails to suppress a snigger. Sometimes I forget how stupid that name sounds until other people are around to hear me say it. Grasping the other end of my rope like a leash, the blue knight guides me over to his loftwing and helps me onto its back, climbing up in front of me afterwards. Wingy stretches her neck to keep me in view, giving another worried call.

"Wingy," I warn again. Of course she doesn't listen.

She takes a large step in my direction, prompting the other two birds to block her way. The next second, there's a pained screech and the green knight's bird flails violently, nearly bucking its rider off. Wingy bristles with anger, a large bunch of gray feathers clamped in her bill. The red knight's bird emits a hoarse croak and lunges at her, spreading its wings in an intimidating display. Wingy flares up, but another threatening squawk from the silver loftwing causes her to back down. She retreats a short distance away and glowers at the other birds from afar.

"D-discipline your bird, would you?!" the green knight snaps in frustration, trying to calm his loftwing. Was that seriously directed at me? I have to hold back a derisive laugh considering the position I'm in. Discipline my bird. What a joke.

Sighing, the female knight trots over on her bird, looking to the blue knight. "Captain Merlin?"

He nods to her. "Take the lead."

The red knight takes off, the loftwing I'm on following seconds after. I dig my hands into its feathers and hang on for dear life. As we depart the rocky island, I glance over my shoulder at my bird one more time. She's just standing there in the same spot watching me go, looking ridiculous with that clump of gray feathers sticking out of her mouth. Goshdarnit, Wingy.

I face front again with a despondent sigh as the blue knight steadies his loftwing in the air, positioning us off the left wing of the leading bird. I gaze down at the sea of clouds below, my stomach unsettled and my mind buzzing with a million stressful thoughts at once. It chills me to the bone knowing there was a tornado out here. You'd think something like that would be newsworthy. I've had it with Skyloft. The place just thrives on pointless drama, but when something bad happens, everyone falls silent and acts all cryptic because they don't want to freak anybody else out or be responsible for throwing the whole town into pandemonium. Nope. They'd rather keep their smelly mouths shut and let everyone figure things out the hard way. It's maddening! What is wrong with our society? Why can't we all just be honest with each other?!

Grumbling to myself, I try to shift into a more comfortable position on the silver loftwing's back. Its torso is somewhat bulkier than I'm used to, and my hands being tied together sure isn't making matters easier. This is so inconvenient. Why me? My heart rate speeds up again as the reality of my situation jumps back to the forefront of my mind. I still can't believe I'm being arrested. This can't be happening to me.

After what feels like the longest flight ever, Skyloft appears on the horizon. But we don't fly down here. We soar past and fly on to a much smaller island that doesn't really look like much of an island at all. More like two smaller islands that used to be one, but started breaking apart at some point. As we circle around it, the first thing that catches my attention is a very large, hollowed-out boulder with a set of metal bars built into it. An empty jail cell. From here, I can just make out an old cot shoved against the far wall of the cell. The larger of the two islands is long and narrow, with a vine-covered overhang. Underneath the overhang there appears to be some little knight headquarters or rest stop, complete with a desk and a couple arm chairs.

When we finally touch down, the captain hands me off to the other two knights and tromps over to the desk. The green one is still smirking to himself quietly, as if he's enjoying every moment of this. He's lucky I don't spit on him. They guide me over to the desk and stand on either side of me as the blue knight takes down my name, address, and some other personal information. Once that's all over with, he opens a drawer and starts flipping through some sort of handbook.

"Hope you're proud of yourself," the green knight whispers in my ear. "We've only had to arrest one other person in the past fifty years!"

My lips part in astoundment. Who does this guy think he is?! He has some nerve. Wait. This guy. I turn my head slightly and glimpse him through my peripheral vision. Now I remember. He's one of those schmucks from knight school. Quill. No wonder he kept smirking at me. I bite back a scathing remark and resort to glaring straight ahead at the wall to quell my anger. I won't give him anything else to use against me. He's just mad because his ugly bird got nicked by a loftwing named Wingy.

Just then, a familiar poster on the wall behind the desk catches my eye. The yellowed parchment bears a sketch of a man's face, a chubby face framed by dark, scraggly hair. He's baring his teeth, his features twisted into an expression of pure malice. It's Pidge, the escaped convict. That picture always used to scare me when I saw it around town in my younger days. When I look at it, I can't help but feel he's glaring straight at me. A shiver runs down my spine. Actually, I think it still scares me. The fact that this guy is charged with one count of armed robbery and one count of manslaughter isn't helping either. Especially the bit about the armed robbery. But of course, no one knows for sure how much of it is true because nobody wanted to freak anybody else out.

"Let's see," the blue knight mutters, bringing me back to the present moment. "It says here that the penalty for ignoring a flying ban is 3000 rupees."

My breath catches in my throat. I feel like the floor was just ripped out from under me and there's no loftwing to catch me and break my fall. Three thousand...

Impossible.

"I...don't know if I can afford that right now," I mumble pathetically.

"Oh," the knight replies in a monotone voice. "That's a shame."

The other two knights grab my arms and tug me backwards, jarring me out of my shocked stupor. I don't have to look back to know where they're taking me.

"W-wait. This all a big misunderstanding!" I plead as they steer me toward the jail cell. "I didn't know there was a flying ban! I didn't know!"

"It would be in your best interest to remain silent," the red knight instructs, gritting her teeth. She uses a key to unlock the cell and holds the door open. Quill leads me inside and begins loosening my bonds.

"We will contact your mother and notify her of your arrest," the female knight informs me. "Tomorrow at the earliest. If the ban is lifted by then."

"Is all this really necessary?" I plead desperately.

Quill just strolls out of the cell without a word, looking smug. The door clangs shut behind him. Schmuck.

With an irritated growl, I pull the rope the rest of the way off and throw it on the ground in a fit of anger. The knights gather back on the other island and start arguing over who gets to take the first guard shift. It makes my blood boil. If you didn't feel like standing guard, you shouldn't have thrown me in jail in the first place you bunch of imbeciles! I didn't even do anything wrong! They're basically holding me for ransom out here.

I release my aggravation in the form of a sigh. Guess I'm stuck in here for at least a night until they contact my mother. Dear Gods. My mother.

My mother is going to have a heart attack when she finds out she has to come pick me up from jail. Oh no. My stomach lurches with panic. All my anger, all my frustrations and hatred, seem to melt away and condense into one instinct: I have to get out out of here.

I look around wildly, searching for some source of random inspiration. The Wanted poster behind the desk grabs my attention again. Surely if that lunkhead could break out of here, so can I. How did Pidge escape again? Oh, right! He tunneled out through the floor.

I pace back and forth restlessly, craning my neck to peer at the knight captain sitting behind the desk. I wait for a lapse in his attention. When he's not looking, I grip the cot with both hands and drag it aside with all my might.

Curses. The hole has been plugged up with concrete.

I sink to the floor and slump against a bedpost, defeated. Darkness is already falling outside. A lonely gust of wind whistles through my cell, making me shiver. How did this happen to me? How did I end up in here? In one day, I went from being a respectable businessman to a scumbag. My mother...what will she think? Will she even bother coming for me? And if she does...my chest tightens with dread. No. I don't want to think about it. I'm not ready to face the wrath of Goselle. I just want to go to sleep and put it all out of my mind.

I stand up and fling the moth-eaten blanket off the bed. There's an ambiguous stain on the mattress. On second thought, I think I'll sleep on the ground.

I flop back down in the grass and close my eyes to escape this wretched place for a short while.

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The night went by too fast.

I spent it falling in and out of a miserable, dreamless half-sleep, dozing for no more than one hour at a time. Each time I managed to nod off, I had hoped I would wake up in my bed to discover this whole ordeal was just some far flung nightmare. But still, here I am. In broad daylight. In a jail cell.

I rise to my feet with a tired moan, blinking against the morning sun as my vision throbs to black and blurs back into focus again. It feels like my eyes are on fire. I brush some of the grass stains off my clothes and take a walk around the cell to stretch out my sore joints, giving myself a neck massage. I catch sight of the female knight on guard outside my cell. I wonder if she has a pretty face. Probably not. They're always ugly when they take off the masks.

And that's when I hear her.

"Where is he?!" a frantic voice shouts from somewhere above. "Where is my boy?!"

My heart nearly bursts out of my chest. Already? No! She can't be here already. I just woke up! I'm not mentally prepared for this!

"Where is he?!" I hear again. I glance around my cell self-consciously. Is there a noose in here?

Too late. The next instant, she appears from around the corner. She looks extremely frazzled, her face bright scarlet, several fly away hairs sticking out from her head. Her eyes go wide when she sees me.

"Rupin!" she gasps, clutching at her heart like she might faint. I groan, burying my face in my hands. Does she have to be so melodramatic?

"Rupin!" she cries again, rushing up to my bars. "W-what happened? Are you all right? Did they hurt you?!"

She...she's not angry? Has she lost her mind or something? "No. No Mom, it's really not that bad," I manage. I meet her gaze reluctantly, my face turning hot from embarrassment. I wonder how much they told her. For a long moment, she just stares at me with her mouth agape, as if she still can't believe what she's seeing. Without warning, she rounds on the female knight.

"Get him out of there," she demands, her expression darkening. "Get him out right now."

The knight opens her mouth as if about to protest, thinks better of it, and promptly moves to unlock my cell. As soon as the door is open, my mother shoves the knight out of the way, throws her arms around me, and crushes me against her chest. Yep. She's snapped.

I go rigid and tolerate her smothering embrace, the stench of her foul perfume overwhelming my senses. After a hug that seems to last for hours, she finally releases me, a fond look of relief settling over her features. I offer up an awkward smile. This is so surreal. I can't remember the last time she looked at me like this.

"Uh...ma'am?" The knight speaks up, a little tentatively. "You owe 3000 rupees."

My mother turns toward the knight slowly, her eyes wide and uncomprehending. "...What?"

A nervous smile flicks across the knight's face. "There was a fine. 3000 rupees."

She just gawks at the knight, dumfounded. She looks back to me uncertainly, as if she is debating whether her son is worth that much. For a moment, I'm completely convinced she's going to push me back into the cell and ditch me on this miserable little island.

But to my surprise, she reaches into her purse and pulls out five gold rupees. She drops them into the knight's hand with an indignant huff.

"Thank you, ma'am." The knight gives a polite nod.

"What's your name, dearie?" my mother asks pleasantly. A little too pleasantly.

"Huh?"

She narrows her eyes, pressing her lips into a very taut smile. "Your name?"

The knight hesitates a moment. "Harriet."

"Harriet." An ominous pause. "I'll remember that."

Without even a glance in my direction, my mother turns and stomps back the way she came. I exchange a frightened look with the knight and trail along behind her at a...safe distance. The atmosphere is brimming with tension. She's mad. She's really mad. I know I should say something to her. Anything. The silence is becoming more unbearable with each passing moment. My mind races to form some apology, some excuse, but I can't seem to think up anything. Perhaps a grateful, "thanks for bailing me out of jail!"? Ack. No way, that's cringe-worthy.

With a sick feeling, I realize that apologies don't matter. Excuses don't matter. No matter what I say, the fact remains that 3000 rupees are gone. Wasted. She has every right to be angry at me right now. My thoughts wander to the feathers hidden under that rock miles away from here, my mind's attempt at comforting myself. At least the feathers are safe. I good as got them. They cost me dearly, but I got them.

No. What am I doing? I shake the stray thought away, scolding myself for focusing on such a thing at a time like this.

At that moment, my mother reaches the edge of the cliff and comes to an abrupt stop.

"Rupin..." she begins, her tone low and dangerous. I freeze where I'm at and brace myself. Here it comes.

"I'm sitting at home, sipping my morning chamomile and reading my favorite romance novel...AND THIS IS THE CALL I GET?" she whirls around, puffed up with rage. "MY SON'S A DELINQUENT?!"

I flinch backwards, almost tripping over my feet. She is livid, her pupils two pinpoints of hatred boring into mine. Suddenly, I feel like a little boy again, shrinking before her. All at once, guilt crumbles me.

"I'm sorry!" I burst out, and I cannot bring myself to meet her eyes. "I'm so sorry! I'll pay you back as soon as I can! I promise." I try to sound sure of myself, but the last part comes out as a pathetic squeak.

"And I expect you to!" she practically snarls. "But that's not all. Don't you see what you've done to me?! Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for me?!"

I bite my lip to keep from cringing. Each of her shrill, raucous words sends a fearful spasm through my body that makes me want to crawl under a rock and never come out again. A gaping silence follows as she glares at me, waiting for me to say something, but I can offer her little more than a befuddled stare. I don't dare nod, nor shrug, nor say or do anything that could possibly make her more furious.

"The neighbors!" She shrieks. She throws her arms in the air, the flab on them jiggling. "The neighbors will be asking questions! 'Goselle, where was Rupin last night? Where did you fly off to in such a hurry this morning, Goselle?'" A bout of insane laughter. "What will I do? What will I say?! I'll be the laughing stock of Skyloft!"

I goggle at her in amazement. That's what she's most worried about? She didn't care about that before! I guess that massive price tag they put on me shocked her back into coherence.

"The shame! The humiliation!" she shrills on, clawing at her head as if to tear her hair out. "And you know I hate flying! Look at me! I'm a wreck! An absolute wreck!"

She stops screaming to catch her breath, trembling with rage. Actually, her hair's just a little messed up, but I'm not about to point that out. I would like to make it home in one piece. Too flustered to berate me any further, she whips out her fan and waves it in front of her face frantically, her breath coming out in quick, unsteady gasps. Once her furious hyperventilating begins to subside, she smacks the fan into her palm and squeezes it until her knuckles turn white, giving me a look of pure acid. If looks could kill, I would be dead.

"This. Never happened," she says quietly, in a sweet voice that is absolutely laced with threats. A frightening smile stretches across her face. "From this moment on, we will never speak of this again. Ever. Are we clear?"

I swallow the lump in my throat and give a silent nod, lowering my gaze to my feet.

"Now then," she says, with the slightest suggestion of a hysterical laugh in her voice. "Let's go home."