*From September, 2014…

And today, the prophecy is fulfilled. ;)

This chapter highlights just how much Deltora Quest I have been reading lately. Iris keeps sounding suspiciously like Lindal of Broome, I think… 0.o

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Chapter 8: The Gleaming Pen

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After that first day of unpacking and settling down, the visiting Rinfolk quickly beat their days into a steady rhythm. They rose early, worked through the days, and returned to the inn or the homes of their hosts for a meal and well-earned rest. With each day that passed, more of their wares disappeared, replaced with traded goods.

For Star, it was very much the same. Instead of joining her family at the markets, she spent long days in the enormous library, as she had planned. The sheer volume of the collection was enough to occupy the first whole week. On that first day, as she had finally made her way to the building, she had been greeted at the door by a girl about her own age, dressed in blue from head to toe.

"I am Alianora of Pandellis, apprentice scholar and keeper of the books," the girl had said formally. "Sir Perlain had informed us that you would be coming, and asked me to assist you during your stay with us."

"Oh. I hadn't been expecting an assistant," Star had answered, not sure what else to say.

"Our library is quite extensive. He does not doubt you, but he fears that you may become lost. He has asked me to make your work as pleasant and easy as possible. Please, follow me."

With that, Alianora had opened the doors and ushered Star inside. The first floor of the building was vast, and shelves of books towered to the ceiling. The few empty spaces between the shelves were occupied with long tables and benches, with neat stacks of loose paper and pots of ink spaced along them. The building smelled strongly of paper, leather, and the burning oil of the many lit lamps. To the apprentice scholar, it was home. To Star, it was staggering.

"Our books are all organized and coded for your convenience," Alianora had explained, partially ignoring how overcome her guest was. "Histories, science, and softer studies are located in the left-hand wing; fictional works are located in the right. A catalogue of all our works can be found in the back of the library. You will find the catalogue arranged in alphabetical order, also for your convenience, with the title, author, and code for each work clearly labeled. If you encounter any problems, I am to remain nearby to answer your questions. Is there anything I may assist you with presently?"

"I think I'll just browse for a while," Star had answered absently, still taking in the number of books around her, wondering where she wanted to begin. Alianora had smiled understandingly.

"Very well, miss. If that is the case, I think you will find everything in order. Should you need me, I have books to replace in the right wing. Feel free to the paper and ink provided, as they are a courtesy. If you find yourself in need of anything, you now know where to find me."

The two girls had nodded to one another, at an accord, and had started off in opposite directions. Alianora had gone to her work in the fiction section. Star had started off to find a hefty science text to pour over.

We don't have nearly enough science books at home, she had thought, invigorated. The best sciences we have are all in my house, in papa's study. And they all deal in magic. I long to see how the rest of humanity sees the world.

She had gone on to spend the rest of that week just pulling random books off shelves, devouring the knowledge within with an appetite she had never known she possessed. The provided ink was useful, as she quickly used up the supply she had brought with her; but she used her own notebooks, which were filling up with alarming speed. It dawned on her that perhaps she would have to buy new ones while she was in Maris, along with the pen of her prophecy.

On the second day, she had asked Alianora where she might go to purchase pens and blank books for writing. The girl had been very excited in her interest, and had informed her that the library frequently sold such things to its patrons. She had hurried Star to a storeroom near the catalogues, which was filled with all sorts of things for a writer. Empty books of many sizes, shapes, and colors lined its shelves. Drawers had opened to reveal rows of quill pens, calligraphy brushes, and styluses of compressed coal. Other shelves held inks of many colors, in vials, bottles, and jars. There were also dictionaries, translation guides, rulers, glue, and some tools that Star had never seen before.

She had chosen a thick notebook with purple leather binding, because she thought it prettiest; but she had noted that none of them were a good size for her final draft. She had also gone over the collection of pens with a critical eye, hoping that one might stand out from the rest. The wooden handles of the brushes were polished to a fine sheen, and the quills were all crafted from bright plumes, each one a work of art. But none of them felt right to her. None of them quite matched the idea of the gleaming pen from her prophecy.

"There is another shop nearby, just down the road from here, if you do not see what you are looking for," Alianora had commented, seeing the vague disappointment on Star's face. "We prefer to carry more traditional tools here. But other shops can sell you pens with metal nibs, such as the one I saw you using yesterday. You seem to be looking for something very specific."

"I am. It has to be the right pen. I just have to keep looking until I find it."

"I… I have never used a pen like yours before," Alianora had added shyly. "The scholars say it is too modern for us. Many people find our plumed quills to be old fashioned, though, and use the metal nibs more and more often. As an apprentice scholar, I have hardly been allowed to see one. Might I try using yours? Just for a moment?"

"Of course," Star had agreed. She had opened her new notebook and taken her pen from her bag, handing it to her eager new friend. Looking thrilled to be breaking so many rules, Alianora had taken a vial of black ink from its shelf and cautiously dipped the nib inside.

"Not too far," Star had warned. "Too much, and you'll get blotches. I learned that the hard way."

Smiling her thanks, Alianora had written her name on the first page of the notebook. The nib had made a slight scratching sound as it glided across the page. Alianora had been impressed and very pleased.

"Oh, see how smooth it writes. It feels as though it could fly right out of my hand. What a splendid device! And what a shame, that the scholars refuse to use them. They would not be pleased to see me doing this."

Star had smiled in amusement. In the end, she had purchased the notebook, the ink vial that Alianora had already opened, an unopened vial of red ink, and a jar of black to refill her own vials from. Also, even though it had been a birthday present, she had left the pen to Alianora, to use in her free time. Star had another one, after all. And she couldn't see how she could refuse the girl something that brought her so much joy.

This had been the most excitement of the first week. Now it was the second week, and Star was returning to the library with a treasure in her bag. She had gone back to the Cavern of the Crystal that morning, where the Keeper had been waiting to return the Book, at last.

"It is a fine work, as it is," he had declared. "I thoroughly enjoyed it, Star. All the same, you will notice corrections of my own here and there—spelling errors, mostly, though your family seems to have caught most of them already. I am glad that you leave generous margins, child, for I made more use of them than is perhaps acceptable. I hope you enjoy my commentaries."

Star had no doubt that she would. Having the Book back was so exciting to her. Now she could start interviewing her father's friends, as she had planned. Having the Keeper's commentary was a terrific starting point. She wondered if it was too soon to let Alianora glance over it.

I have so many books checked out already, and I haven't even finished one yet, she thought. I'll look over what the Keeper has left me later, when I'm at home, and the others can have a look. Then I will share with Alianora, and she can share it with the scholars. Perhaps, if they deem it worthy enough, one of them will offer to help me make the copies of the final draft.

Walking into the library had become a less grand affair since that first day; Star no longer felt like a small fish in a sea of books, but like a welcomed guest. Her arrival attracted little attention, say from Alianora, who was waiting just inside to meet her as usual.

"Should you need anything, you know where to find me," the girl greeted, as she had done every morning. Star nodded in reply and continued to her usual table. Alianora had quickly found that Star needed little assistance. Star had yet to search for anything specific, and was content to simply wander the shelves, pulling out any book that struck her fancy. The pile of books she had amassed was growing steadily. The idea that she might have to stop and actually finish one of them had begun to prick at the back of her mind.

And so, once she was situated with her ink and notebooks arranged as she liked them, Star selected the tome from the top of her stack and began pouring through it, determined to finish it that afternoon. It was a guide on the birds of the northern mountains, a region which Star had only heard of in Traveler tales, and hoped she would visit one day. For some reason, she had thought it strange that the Maris library would have books on all animals, all plants, and all peoples of their world—she had found detailed lists of herbs from the plains, and beasts from her own home, alongside guides to the fish of the local sea.

Long ago, it might have suited the Maris to fill their library exclusively with their personal experience. They had been separated from others, locked in their bitter clan wars, like the people of Earth had been. But then, the Maris had been gifted with a Titan of their own—Orin the Wise, the first Keeper of the Crystal. He had brought unity to his people, and they had prospered. Once they had begun to deal with the other peoples of the world, this prosperity had grown tenfold. While they had the strength and skill to offer it, they were glad to record the knowledge of their brothers and sisters alongside their own.

And now the library had to be as big as it was. It was the only building in the world that could house the knowledge, experience, and wisdom of three different peoples. Perhaps, Star liked to hope, it had once contained the knowledge of a fourth…

She had searched on her own, but had found no evidence that any Zebak history had ever been kept in the library. If there ever had been, it would have been thousands of years ago. And, Star supposed, it all would have been destroyed by now, and any scholar who might have known of it would deny it had ever happened.

She could feel a gaping void there, an obvious and depressing lack of presence where she felt the knowledge of the Zebak ought to be. For self-defense, if for nothing else. An understanding of their part of the world and their customs would be most useful if they ever tried to invade again. But they had separated themselves from the rest of the world, and now very little was really known of them. It was merely assumed, now, that they were a race of vicious, cunning warriors and monsters, who wanted nothing more than the western world for themselves.

Never assume anything, Star remembered the Keeper saying. It makes an ass of you and me, both. All that we know of our ancient enemy is based on assumptions. And that bothers me as much as I know it bothers my father, and the other Titans. Much of what we think we know may turn out to be quite wrong. Norriss and Shaaran certainly seem to think so.

Star hadn't thought very hard about her family in nearly a week, because she had been so absorbed in her work. But thinking of her aunt and uncle suddenly turned her thoughts back to the west, toward Rin. She suddenly wondered how everyone was getting along. She wondered how the village was faring, missing its best baker and cleverest weaver. She wondered how John was doing, without the usual extra pair of hands to help him. She hoped her aunt and uncle were feeling better, by now.

Most of all, she hoped her father was feeling less anxious, and that he was enjoying himself.

That last hope may be a long shot, she told herself. She shook her head, and returned to her book.

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Another week went by in this way. Star found herself almost in a fever, because only two weeks of her stay in Maris remained, and she felt that she was nowhere near enough time to do everything she had planned to. There were too many books left unread. Too few notes taken to bring home. Too many references she still wished to find. And, despite several trips to every shop and market stall she heard of, she still hadn't found the pen she was looking for. She was sure that she had looked over every pen that Maris had to offer, including a few truly beautiful works of art. And she had turned them all down with a heavy heart.

One had been crafted from silver, and the artist—a man of Umbray, of course—had proudly insisted that it was certainly meant for her. But the piece was expensive, and Star was unable to afford it; and she could feel in her heart, though it flashed brilliantly in the light, it was not meant for her, after all.

One afternoon, she was startled from her reading by the library doors banging open suddenly, disturbing all the other patrons around her. Everyone looked up in puzzled annoyance, peering toward the entrance way, trying to see who had disturbed them.

None of them had to wonder for very long. In a few moments, Forley and Alanis both appeared, striding determinedly past the bookshelves, obviously looking for Star. Alianora was struggling to keep up with them, looking alarmed.

Slightly embarrassed, Star tried to hide behind her book, and hoped they wouldn't notice her.

I'll wait until they leave. Then I'll catch up with them and see what they want, she decided.

Of course, she stood out far too much to be missed so easily. Hair and dark skin aside, she was the only patron in the library who wasn't Maris. Her cousins spotted her right away, and she heard their heavy footsteps coming closer and closer.

"There you are, small Star," Forley said loudly. "We've been looking all over for you!"

"Shhh!" She hissed back, holding a finger to her lips, along with everyone else at the long table. Even Alianora had hushed him, out of instinct. Her young face was thunderous.

"We're in a library, dumb," Star whispered back, also angry. "Keep your voice down."

"Oh! Sorry," he said in a lower, sheepish voice. She couldn't remember the last time he had been so quiet.

Also annoyed with him, Alanis shoved her way past him and greeted Star with a smile. "Come outside with us," she whispered. "We wanted to discuss something with you. Something… fun."

"I'm busy," Star whispered back, exasperated, gesturing at her open book.

"Your books will be here tomorrow. Just come with us. Hear us out, at least."

Star sighed and rolled her eyes. She marked her page with a scrap of paper, and hurried to follow her cousins. She could feel the stares of the other patrons boring into her back as she walked away. She shrugged apologetically to Alianora, who shrugged back in answer.

The sooner I get them out of here, the better, she thought. This is so embarrassing…

When the three of them were outside, Forley stretched his arms wide and yawned boredly.

"That much quiet was exhausting," he commented. "I don't understand how you tolerate it."

"Never mind that," Star answered crossly, shoving her elbow into his side. "Really, I'm very busy. What do you want?"

Alanis crossed her arms and sighed. "I don't blame you for being mad at him, but you don't have to take it out on me, too. I warned him to keep his voice down, but he never listens to reason. But back to the point. We have the afternoon to ourselves, and have planned a short trip to the cliffs, as we had spoken of a while back. We had hoped that perhaps you would come with us."

"Iris is already waiting at the house for us to return with you," Forley added. "She's overly excited, as usual. Our adventure last year ended in disaster, and we have been looking forward to trying again. And this time, we'll have a real warrior to save the day. You should abandon your studies, just for this one afternoon, and come with us."

Star was interested at once, but she tried hard to resist it. "I remember you mentioning it before we left home. I also remember Leah pointing out that none of our parents would ever stand for it."

"Indeed. That's why we haven't told them of it," Forley answered, as if it were obvious. "As far as they know, we are going for a walk on the far side of the beach to search for shells, as we often do. Not even Leah is aware of it. If she were, she would tattle on us in an instant."

"So, as you can see, it's a grand secret. Oh, Star, we insist that you come with us. An opportunity like this doesn't come along every day, after all."

They were so excited about their impending journey, and their excitement was infectious. Star felt it creep into her heart, tugging impatiently, and she suddenly felt a deep longing for an adventure. Something outrageously out of the ordinary to shake up the routine she had established. Something dangerous, against the rules—even her godparent's rules—that would scare her whole family half to death. She had never done anything so dangerous, or broken so many rules so blatantly. At least, not on purpose.

She grinned at them. "Sounds like fun. Let me get my bag, and I'll be right back."

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An hour and a half later, a party of four was trekking determinedly through the pine forest that sparsely climbed the side of the cliff. Iris was in the lead, practically bounding up the path that wound through the trees. Forley and Star trotted behind her, filled with energy and anticipation. Alanis came last, stalking casually behind them, wondering silently at their madness, as well as her own.

"Star," she called, "remember when you wrote the third adventure? You wrote something about while my brother and the others sat on the island puzzling through another riddle, my father would have been halfway up this cliff side."

"I remember it well," Star answered over her shoulder, wondering why she would bring up something so specific.

"That passage just now popped into my head," Alanis called back. "I don't know why, exactly, but that's stuck with me ever since I read it. It sounds just like him. And it just dawned on me that here I am, halfway up this cliff side! Isn't it funny? Or perhaps prophetic?"

Star tossed a pleased smile at her cousin. She had always been particularly proud of those words, even though they had come from her own father's brain instead of hers. He had said that he remembered thinking that thought very distinctly, and that it had vaguely frustrated him in the moment. In any case, it described her grandfather perfectly. And it described his daughter just as well.

Near the top of the cliff, the forest began to thin out, and the trail that Iris was following grew fainter. Clearly, few Maris ever ventured this far.

"This forest is an excellent source of timber," Iris explained idly, keeping her voice down. "Norriss and Bronden are always overly excited about it and are willing to pay an outrageous amount of money for the lumber, though I can never hope to understand it. We only harvest the trees on the lower part of the cliff side, when we can. The only people who ever come this far are curious children, like me."

"Judging from the trail, there are few of you," Alanis commented dryly.

"Mother and father have been warning from babyhood not to climb the cliff. They always threaten me with severe beating, if they ever catch me doing so. Therefore, I naturally climb as far as I can, whenever I find the time. I keep the trail well beaten, believe me."

"It's a wonder she still has any feeling in her backside," Forley added cheekily. "She may be proud and boastful, but she has been caught many times. Oh, and to say nothing of what happened last year. I was sure that all our parents would kill us both."

"It would have served you both right," Alanis answered, raising her voice to be heard from the back of the line. "You nearly met your ends up here."

Iris spun around and hushed Alanis sharply. "Keep your voice down," she hissed, lowering her voice almost to a whisper. "We are now very close to the fighter's nesting grounds. If they hear us, they will attack. If Forley had not ignored my warnings last year, we never would have ended up in that mess."

Forley shrugged unapologetically, and continued to follow her without a word.

Star sidled up beside him and poked his shoulder. "Trading one silence for another, are we?" she whispered.

He gave her an unimpressed look, then turned his focus back on the trail. He was also proud and boastful, and normally very loud; but it seemed that he could muster a little restraint for this trip. Clearly, he had learned his lesson, and had no wish to repeat last year's misadventure.

The forest had grown very thin; it ended in a broad plateau of gray rock and dry, scraggly grass. Far ahead, they could see where the plateau narrowed to a jagged point, jutting out into the sea like a spear. All they could see beyond that was an expanse of gray sky, and they could hear the wind whistling sharply across the rocks.

Staying hidden in the trees, they scanned the rocks for a tell-tale flash of green, and strained to listen for angry screeching. But all seemed peaceful. Suddenly, Iris made a signal and pointed into the jumbled rocks.

"Look," she whispered. "There. That is one of the nests."

They all looked where she was pointing, and were astonished to see that one of the rocks had begun to shift on its own. The rock wasn't a rock at all. It was an enormous, silvery gray bird with a curved orange beak. It's cold black eyes darted around the plateau, obviously aware that something was lurking nearby.

"That is one of the queens," Iris explained, almost too softly to be heard. "See how she blends in with the rocks? She is perfectly hidden, while she sits on the eggs in the nest. She will rise and defend her babies, if she feels threatened, but she will probably remain where she is. She is only one of three or four that I know nest here. Of course, the other queens are also hidden, and so I cannot see where they are, exactly."

"That is good and well for them," Alanis whispered back, never taking her eyes from the bird they had found. "But what of the males?"

"There are a great many queens in the area, but only a few kings. They are highly territorial, and will defend their own nesting grounds with their lives. The king of this nest is probably fishing, to bring food for his queens and their young. The babies hatch about this time every year, and I have seen them gulp down whole catches in seconds. The kings have to make many fishing trips every hour to keep their families fed."

"If he were here, we probably would have seen him by now," Forley added. "The males are all bright green, and impossible to miss. He is probably fishing right now. In which case, he will return in all his glory shortly."

"In which case, we should hope he will be too busy tending to his brood to notice us," Iris concluded. "The fighters are ferocious on a normal day; but if they feel that their queens or their babies are being intruded upon, they will lash out at anything. And other kings will do anything to invade and conquer their neighbor's territories at this time of year. The nests are so often left unguarded, it is easy. And then there will be a fight."

Alanis turned a cold glare on Iris. "You mean to tell me, you've hauled us all the way up here to spy on the fighters when they're most easily agitated? It's no wonder you were almost killed before! Now it really would have served you right!"

"Alanis, please, keep your voice down!" Star insisted, tugging on the sleeve of her cousin's jacket. "The king is coming back. I can see him."

Indeed, a flash of green was descending into their view, to settle among the rocks with the air of a ruler. All around the plateau, the other hidden queens were raising their heads. Their feathers began to ruffle as they puffed themselves up, suddenly twice as big as they were before. They began squawking sharply to one another across the rocks, and at the king, in what sounded to Star like a warning.

A shadow fell over Iris' face.

"This is one of the kings," she breathed, "but he is not the king. He is an intruder, like I said. Now the queens agree that they are being threatened, and that their babies are in danger. If their king does not return soon, they will fight him, themselves."

"But why?" Alanis asked. "Why should they be in danger, just because this stranger has entered their nesting grounds?"

Iris suddenly looked very sad. "If this king conquers the nest, he will kill all the young of his defeated neighbor, so that he can mate with the queens himself. That is why the kings are so vicious with one another, this time of year. They have much to lose."

Alanis and Star were both slightly horrified. The creatures of their own place were gentle and peaceful, and would never turn on each other so greedily, or take advantage of each other's weakness. And the thought of the hatchling fighters being slaughtered by a vengeful conqueror made their skin crawl unpleasantly. It reminded them distinctly of a darker time long ago, when their own people had been trapped just as mercilessly. They hoped at the same time that the king of this nest would return quickly.

Forley was rolling his eyes. "And to think," he said. "If our king isn't fishing for his family, he is off somewhere, trying to do the same thing to this guy. All of the fighters lose the game—especially the queens and their babies. It's all so unfair."

"It is nature," Iris said simply. "I have watched these birds for many years, and it is always the same story. It is what they do. It is how they have always lived. It is how their parents lived, and how their babies will live when they are grown. They are not people, and do not know what it is to change. If nothing else, they can provide us with a warning. We can watch them, and remember how much better it is for us to live in peace, than to wage endless war."

As if in answer, a furious screech sounded high above them, and a shadow fell over the rocks. In a flurry of wind and flying green feathers, the real king of the nest shot down out of the sky, flashing talons aiming for the intruder. The sound that rose from the rocks was deafening—the two kings, screeching curses at one another; the queens, by turns relieved and terrified, squawking encouragements to their mate; the shrill, confused cheeping of the hatchlings, safe under the ruffled feathers of their mothers.

The four friends watched in fearful fascination from the pine trees, as the two kings hovered in the air above the rocks, jabbing with their beaks, their mighty talons reaching for one another. The king of this nest was larger than the intruder, his feathers a deeper, almost emerald green. Clearly, he was much older and more experienced than his smaller, lighter-colored contender. But the younger king was faster in his smallness, and more energetic and pugnacious in his youth. He easily outmaneuvered the king several times; more than once, the king just barely escaped the jabbing of its sharp beak.

Star watched in silence for long minutes, as the battle raged on, and the birds went on shrieking. Finally, she could stand the suspense no longer. She glanced down, looking for something to throw. She grabbed a pinecone from the ground and leapt from behind her tree, ignoring her friends' gasp of surprise and terror. She took aim and threw the pinecone as hard as she could, hoping that the younger king would remain where he was long enough to make her effort worthwhile.

The pinecone hit its mark soundly. It smacked the smaller bird square in the face, and it shrieked in surprise and pain. Dazed, it was helpless as the king razed talons across its chest and face. Blood spattered the rocks, and the queens all seemed to cheer in triumph. Seeing that it was clearly outmatched, the smaller king awkwardly wheeled around and flew off clumsily into the sky.

Satisfied that its nest was no longer threatened, the king settled on the ground and surveyed his small kingdom. His queens were trilling in relief, and the hatchlings were quieting down. It stopped and stood as still as a menacing statue, as all at once, its eyes settled on Star.

With her red dress and dark hair tangling in the wind, she was impossible to miss as the deep green king was. They matched each other in height; but he had the obvious advantage of his beak and talons, and the only weapon she had was a knife in her bag, which seemed pitiful by comparison. She was paralyzed with surprise, as were her friends, still hiding in the trees.

Star and the king regarded each other for a long, tense moment. He was not a tame creature, and would be impossible to approach or reason with. Even though she was the one who had turned the battle in his favor, he would treat her as he treated any other intruder. She was trespassing in his kingdom, and her presence would not be tolerated. Star felt the impulse to run screaming in her mind, but her legs were stiff, and she couldn't take her eyes from the fighter.

Like a lightning bolt, the fighter king launched himself at her with another furious battle cry. At last, Star felt enough panic to break away and run. Alanis, Forley, and Iris were also running, crying out in alarm, but all that she was really aware of was her own fear, her own need to get away, and the king's vicious screeching as he glided after them through the thin forest. If only they could make it further down the cliff, where the forest was thicker, he would be unable to follow them. If only…

But he was so swift. Would they make it to shelter in time?

Star felt another wave of panic, as the king's shadow fell over them. He was right on top of them now. All he had to do was plunge down, catch her in his talons, and swoop her up into the air. To rip her to shreds, or dash her against the rocks, or let her fall helplessly into the churning sea far below, or whatever other punishment his raging animal mind decided was best. She was dimly aware of emerald feathers raining down around her, brushing her arms and face, but mostly she just felt the panic. It gave her a burst of desperate speed, just enough to outrun the fighter, and plunge at last into the first trees of the thicker forest.

Her friends were all right beside her, sped by a similar panic. The shadow was left behind, and an angry, defeated scream sounded behind them. The king had been unable to follow them, where the trees stood so close together. They were safe, but by no means did they stop running. Only when they had nearly reached the bottom of the cliff did they stop to catch their breaths.

"That was a near thing," Alanis rasped between deep gulps of air. "You are absolutely unbelievable, Star! What on earth were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," she apologized. "I'm sorry."

"You should be! You were nearly killed—we all were! That thing would have eaten you for supper, and you know it! I might have expected such a thing from Forley, but from you? Unbelievable!"

"Well, how do you like that?" Forley laughed. "For once, something isn't my fault. My parents will be pleased to hear it."

"Are you mad?" Iris demanded. "If you are wise, you will make sure that they never hear it. Imagine what they will do to us, not only for making the trip again, but for bringing Star with us. Oh, perhaps it was not the best idea, after all…"

"Whatever the three of you think, I had a great time," he said cheerily. "And it seems that Star has brought a nice souvenir back with her."

He reached out and plucked something from Star's tangled hair. In his hand, he held an emerald-colored plume. It was nearly as long as his arm, and still gleaming with oil from the fighter king's body. They all remembered at the same time how many feathers the king had shed as he had overtaken them, how they had fallen like rain. Even now, their skin and clothes were all streaked lightly with the same oil, where other feathers had brushed them.

Smiling, Forley handed the plume to Star. "We can disguise how you really came upon this, quite easily," he said. "We will wait for the oil to dry, and then soak it briefly in the surf. We will tell our parents that you found it washed up in the tide. As for the stains on our clothes, they seem to be growing fainter as they dry. They will be nearly invisible by the time we get back to the house. No one will be the wiser."

"The Keeper is almost certainly aware of this," Iris commented warily. "Hopefully, he will not tell Perlain, who would tell his friends. If he can somehow hear us—and I hope that he can—I pray that he keeps this knowledge to himself. It would be a pity to have escaped so narrowly, only for our parents to wring our necks."

Alanis was still angry, especially now that her companions were being so lighthearted about the whole mess. Her anger was obvious, but true to her nature, she showed by maintaining silence, and keeping her face as blank as possible. Meanwhile, Star gazed down at the plume in her hand. The oil on it was still very fresh, and had a silken sheen. Even though the day was cloudy and the sun was well hidden, the plume was gleaming.

A gleaming pen…

The thought pierced her mind like a dart. She smiled down at the feather, and she felt a strange connection with it. The plume could be easily crafted into a very beautiful pen. The quill was hollow, but quite sturdy and strong, and would last for many years to come. And even when the oil did dry and its sheen was long gone, she would never forget the way it looked right now. It was perfect, and beautiful. To her, it always would be.

This is it, she thought, feeling fully satisfied, as if a weight had lifted from her shoulders. This is the gleaming pen for my writer's hand. With this plume, I will write the final draft. With this plume, I will shape our changing land.

With this plume, I will change the world.