A Wizard's Wings Read Online Free PDF Page B

there.”
    I nudged her. “If you’re there, something sweet to drink is also there. I’ve learned that by now.”
    “Notnot learned how to count, though,” groused the furry fellow on her thigh. His bright green eyes watched me expectantly.
    Grudgingly, I poured him a shell of his own. As I handed it to him, his little paws snatched it away and lifted the contents to his face. Whiskers trembling, he swallowed it speedily, not even pausing to take a breath. When finally he lowered the cup, his three teeth had been stained purple.
    I knew better than to wait for a word of thanks. Pouring myself a cup, I capped the flask and set it aside. My first sip exploded with flavor, filling my mouth with the sweetness of spring—and my heart with gratitude for the fields and forests and shores of Fincayra, where every taste seemed sharper, every scent stronger, and every color richer.
    “I’m wishing,” I said wistfully, “that we could stay here, in this time and place, forever.”
    Hallia glanced at me, her expression as warm as the fire.
    “As long as we don’t run out of raspberry syrup,” replied Rhia. She reached for some thick, waxy leaves that she had molded into bowls and dipped out some stew for each of us. She set Scullyrumpus’ bowl on the ground, since it was too heavy for him to hold. Grumpily, he crawled down from her leg and started lapping at the steaming contents. Meanwhile, Rhia handed Hallia and me each a strip of linden bark for use as a spoon (or, if crunched into bits, as additional seasoning).
    As we savored the rich, nutty flavor of the stew, the last touches of daylight, lavender as the petals of flowers, vanished from the sweeping forest that stretched outward from the base of our hill. Though the light had dimmed, no stars had yet appeared. I looked upward, appraising our chances for stargazing later on. To my dismay, lumbering clouds were massing to the north. Already, they were starting to spread across the darkening sky, like ships of war sailing into a tranquil harbor.
    In time, Rhia produced a pair of golden biscuits apiece. Topped with cream from the butterfly milk, and a scattering of mint, they made the perfect dessert—if, that is, Rhia hadn’t already had another dessert in mind. In fact, she had two. First, she passed around fresh slices of honeycomb for us all, flavored with the subtle tartness of rose-hip blossoms. Then, from underneath the coals of the fire, she retrieved the very last apple of the season, the gift of one of the Drama’s late-blooming fruit trees, baked with lavish amounts of honey and cinnamon.
    As we split the steaming, juicy bits of apple among ourselves, Rhia removed the tripod and cooking pot, then threw a few more pine boughs on the fire. Instantly, the flames spurted higher. I noticed my shadow swaying in the flickering light, and it gave me an idea. Tapping the shadow lightly with my finger, I nodded at the flames.
    Instantly, my shadow leaped closer to the fire. Throwing itself upon the shelf of rock behind Rhia, it started to dance, spinning and twirling wildly. Seeing this, Scullyrumpus shrieked in fear, dropped his apple slice, and scurried up Rhia’s arm to his hiding place. As the rest of us grinned, my shadow continued to cavort in the light of the fire, showing its best leaps and twists, rolls and spins.
    Rhia’s bell-like laughter rose into the night air. “It looks like a fledgling jumping around in the nest, trying to find some way to fly.”
    “No,” I answered. “More like you jumping around, trying to find some way to fly.”
    At that, we all laughed. Except, of course, for Scullyrumpus, who remained buried in Rhia’s leafy pocket.
    Finally, I motioned to the shadow with my hand. The antics ceased abruptly. “Excellent, most excellent. All right now, come back to me.”
    But the shadow did not follow my command. Sulkily, it placed its hands upon its hips, glared at me for a moment, and sat down at the opposite side of the fire.