Author's note: What happens, when an unsuspecting servant girl stumbles upon an old king's most cherished possession? For our third story, we're traveling back to a medieval castle, where a king has kept a rare treasure hidden away in a secret room for untold years. In The Firebird, we explore the themes of what it means to be valued, altruism and reincarnation.
The song was coming from beyond the wall.
Sapphia craned her neck to listen, pressing her ear to the stone. It was a high, faint whistle, like nothing she had ever heard before. She abandoned her duties and searched the unremarkable masonry for a gap. What could be making such a rueful sound?
She had to know.
This room had belonged to the old King before he passed away. He'd frequented it every evening, and insisted it was cleaned each morning. But the King was dead. Now, a new King had ascended the throne. His son, who was accepting the crown in the city, and would soon return to lay claim to his personal estate.
So, the headmistress had Sapphia working long hours to banish the dust from every surface and linen, along with the rest of the maids who scurried about the castle in anticipation for their master's arrival.
Everything had to be perfect.
But the mysterious song would haunt her until she found its source. She could find no gap, nor loose stone to indicate a passage, and leaned against the bookcase in defeat. A hidden notch beneath her arm gave, and she threw herself back to witness the heavy fixture sinking into the stone wall. A little gasp escaped her as a dark passageway opened up like a great black maw.
What trouble she'd be in if she could not put the wall back!
But excitement overshadowed even the most scathing of the headmistress's lectures. There was
someone
through the darkened hall, and their song was enchanting.
How could she ignore it?
Sapphia stole a candle from a nearby sconce and stood at the entrance for a time. She listened for any footsteps in the hall behind her, but there were none. So, she descended into that darkness that consumed all but her small flame.
It railed against the stale air, struggling to survive.
Sapphia was careful not to breathe at all for fear of disturbing the melody.
Anticipation quickened her silent steps until she came upon a thick wooden door that had aged in the total darkness. The song was louder here, echoing through the narrow passage and sweeping her up in its doleful whistle.
Briefly did she imagine it could be a ghost. She cast off the silly notion with a scowl before easing open a heavy door.
The whistling ceased abruptly.
A muted gasp escaped her and she dropped the candle. It hit the floor, sputtering wax before promptly dying. Sapphia couldn't comprehend exactly what was inside the cage, so she clung to what she understood. It was a bird aflame.
No
, she thought, her eyes wide.
Not aflame.
Sapphia did not need the candle any longer, because the bird's long, luminous feathers banished the darkness. Even the ones that had fallen were still glowing softly at its taloned feet. It had sad black eyes as it stared at her through the golden bars of its cage.
"Was it you?" she asked quietly, already knowing the answer. With more confidence, she stepped over the candle and approached the bars. It was caged, what could it do? Sapphia remained several handspans away, but she sank to the ground in a billow of skirts and simply watched the enormous bird. "You have a beautiful voice," she whispered. "Why are you down here, all alone?"
It stared at her, unblinking, but the music didn't come.
The creature was larger than any bird she'd ever seen, so that she didn't know if it was truly a bird at all, or some great falcon from ages past. A lone relic. But it had wings and an impressive plume of long tailfeathers. And in its dark eyes was the gleam of intelligence, of curiosity and sorrow.
Down here, it couldn't even see the sky.
Sapphia was at a loss. If this bird was one of the old King's treasures, then he'd told no one about its existence before he died, leaving it to starve down here. The wells in the cage were empty, picked clean so the scored gold shone in the light of the bird's feathers.
"You're hungry," she said.
She didn't expect it would answer, but purpose flared inside of her. "I cannot stay any longer, but can you wait one day? Tomorrow, I will bring you food." It had been a fortnight since the old King had passed, and he was infirm for many months before that. Surely one more night would not be fatal to the magical bird.
"Forgive me," she said, rising and adjourning with haste.
A fluttering coo escaped the bird, and she shut the door tightly. The kitchens were locked at night, but when they gave Sapphia her rations the next day, she would save them for the incredible creature. As she eased the bookshelf back into place, she discovered a single feather tucked away in her apron, still glowing softly in the dim light.
*
Sapphia descended into the basement with greater ease, her skirts filled with pastries and bread and anything she could steal from the kitchens. She triggered the bookshelf and slipped into the narrow passage, listening hard for the song of the firebird.
But all was silent.
She hoped she wasn't too late, but when that heavy door opened, a new sort of shock filled her. She almost dropped her carefully hoarded rations at the sight of him.
Rather than a bird, a man with long glowing hair inhabited the cage.
His naked form was powerful, but he leaned against the bars as if sitting up exhausted him. His eyes, though, were that same intense pitch she remembered. Surprise and trepidation mingled inside her, but she ignored them both and knelt at the foot of the cage. "Here," she said, spilling her haul through the bars. "-just as I promised."
He leaned forward, so they were close, closer than she should have allowed.
The man might have slipped an arm through the cage and grabbed her by the collar. No one would hear her screams down here, if he decided to harm her. Her mouth went dry when she tried to swallow, but his dark gaze merely scoured her before he stole a crust of bread and gnawed on it, his eyes never leaving her.
She laughed breathlessly and leaned back on her heels. "You
are
hungry."
He responded by stealing a hunk of cheese.
Sapphia smiled and scooted closer to the bars. "I wish I could have brought you more, but this is all they let me have. The chef says I'm too small to eat so much."
His luminous hair cascaded down his strong back in brilliant rivulets of light. There was no mistaking that he was the same creature that had graced the cage the night prior. Maybe now, he could tell her why he was trapped down here.
"Oh!" she said, pulling out a waterskin. "I almost forgot."
This time, she offered it directly to him.
He gave pause and stared at the waterskin before reaching for it. His hand wrapped around hers, igniting her flesh with frisson that chased up her arm. Her breath caught as she pulled away, surprised that her fingers were still tingling.
The creature didn't seem to notice Sapphia's reaction, his throat working as he drank down her offering before turning his appetite back on the dense block of cheese, which he ate with ravished intent. But soon, he slowed and savored the meager meal, his focus more intently on her.
The sorrow in his expression had abated.
Sapphia was lost in his gaze, taken by the flames that burned softly behind his eyes. But his nudity distracted her. She'd seen men naked before, guests of the King who insisted on being bathed like stubborn children. But they paled in comparison to his sleek and potent form.
When he leaned forward, every muscle worked in perfect harmony.
He was a true specimen of man.
This time, when an arm slipped through the cage, he caught her wrist and dragged her in. Sapphia's next breath was ragged, but she didn't dare scream. She'd rather take her chances with him than the cruel headmistress. A fiery blush chased under her skin and prickled in her cheeks. The man leaned in as if to tell her a secret.
Then, their lips collided.
There were sparks behind her eyes, and she was blinded to all but the taste of him. A hot tongue lashed into her mouth, but it was the heat in her core that made her moan. Something roiled there that had never existed before, something deeper than passion and broader than love. She couldn't even begin to describe how it filled her limbs with fire and burned away any lingering doubt.
But the kiss ended too soon, and the lights faded from behind her eyes, leaving the luminous man, resting languidly against the bars. Her embarrassment was small, muted by the fact that the man was trapped. A dead King's prisoner. Her vision cleared, and she searched for a lock or a door on the cage, but there was none.
His smile was wane, like he understood her frantic searching and found it amusing.
There is no point
, his look seemed to say. As if he was resigned to his fate as a caged beast.
"No," she protested under her breath. "This isn't right."
But the cage yielded no exit as if it had been built around him. Her teeth ground together as she tugged at one bar, and then the next, searching for a weakness in its construction. Surely, he'd done this, himself, night after endless night, but still she tried.
When she finally slumped to the floor, a hand clasped hers. It was warm and soft and reassuring. "This is
wrong
," she reiterated, daring to look up into his tranquil eyes. "You should be free, not locked away in a cage!"
He pressed his forehead against the bars, and she stroked the tawny flesh of his hand. Everything about him was enchanting. Just touching him excited the little hairs at the base of her neck.
Her lips brushed his again, and she inhaled his sigh. "I'm sorry," she whispered, drawing away as the chill air gripped her. There was nothing she could do. He let her go without struggle, his keen eyes following her all the way out of the room.
When the bookshelf was restored to its rightful place, she wept until daybreak.
*
Exhaustion brought to Sapphia a strange sense of clarity.
She was merely ill-equipped to unfasten the cage on her own. If she could get her hands on the blacksmith's tools, the gold would bend with ease, and he'd be free. She kept her head down and trundled through her tasks as quickly as they permitted.
Dodging the headmistress's scrutiny, she ducked outside and around the building, finding the furnace unmanned. Two sets of tools she absconded with, a pair of pliers and an iron mallet. Either one might do just fine, but she wanted to be sure. She hid them among the fallen leaves and waited until the moon was high to gather them.
