The Last Phoenix (3 page)

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Authors: Linda Chapman

BOOK: The Last Phoenix
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T
he golden bird blinked. “Goodness, what a noise!” she cried. “I'm sorry to give you such a turn, but don't fret, pet. It wasn't much of a fire and I've put it out now.” She fluffed up her incredible golden feathers. “Anyway, thank you for letting me out of there. This beak of mine is no good for opening doors, and the smoke was getting rather thick, so I really am ever so grateful for your bravery.” She gave Michael a fond look. “Now, what was that you were saying earlier about risking your neck to help a bird, young man? Because, oh! Does
this
bird ever need some help!”

Michael stared. With her spiky feathers and sharply curving beak, the bird looked to have been sculpted from real gold. Her face was oddly expressive—proud but friendly, with glittering sapphire eyes and long eyelashes. The air seemed to ripple around her like a heat haze.

The bird tottled a bit closer to Michael. “Speak up, lovie, who are you, what's your name? Come on, don't be shy!”

Michael crab-walked away backward as if she were a rattlesnake. “I'm dreaming!”

“Dreaming, you say?” The bird looked crestfallen. “Well, young Master Dreaming, I must have the wrong place again. I'm so sorry to have bothered you. I had hoped that the Worthington children lived here.”

“They do!” Jason blinked. “I mean,
we
do.”

Michael whacked him on the arm. “Don't tell it stuff!”


You
are the Worthingtons?” The bird flew up excitedly into the air. “Oh, the Fire Mountain be praised! Then I
have
found you at last!”

“Found us?” Jason asked in wonder. “You mean, the map—”

Michael whacked his arm again. “Shut up, Jase!”

“Jase as in Jason!” The bird flapped in a circle. “Oh, my little treasures!” she trilled. “I've been looking for you everywhere, and now I've found you!”

Michael heard footsteps on the lawn behind him and turned to see Jess and Milly racing toward them. They saw the golden bird dancing in the air and skidded to an incredulous halt.

“Oh…
wow
!” said Milly.

“Four of you!” cooed the bird, rapturously. “Just as he said there would be. Four Worthingtons here in front of my very eyes: Master Jason, Master Michael, Mistress Milly,
and Mistress Jess. Am I right? Please, tell me I'm right.”

Jason opened his mouth to speak, then looked at Michael warily.

“Yes, you're completely right!” said Milly, her eyes shining in wonder.

Michael groaned. “You're as bad as Jase!”

But his sister ignored him totally. “Who are you?
What
are you?”

“I think I know,” Jason said quickly. “You're a
phoenix
, aren't you?”

The bird gave a delighted screech. “Ooooh! I can see Skribble was spot on about you. Sharp as a new pin he said you were. Yes, you're dead right. I am a phoenix—
the
phoenix, to be precise. There's only me. I'm the only phoenix in the whole wide world!” She looked around at them all. “My name's Fenella. Pleased to meet you.”

“Fenella the phoenix?” Jess echoed. Michael groaned weakly again.

“Wait a moment…” Still in shock, it had taken a few seconds for Milly to process what the bird had said. “
Skribble
was spot on? Do you mean to say you know Skribble?”

“Me? Know Skribbaleum El Lazeez Ekir?” Fenella chuckled. “Oh yes, my little chickabiddy! And what a worm he is.” She affected a swoon. “If I were seven
hundred years younger…So clever he is! If I hadn't lost that wonderful magic map he gave me I'd have found you a lot sooner. I remembered the general area, but when you reach my age, you get a little hazy about the details…”

“Magic map?” Jess said wonderingly.

“It was leading
you
to us!” Milly realized.

“And that's why the names of the trees were marked on it!” Jason finally cracked the puzzle. “You were navigating by them as you flew overhead.”

“We wanted magic back in our lives,” Milly whispered, her eyes shining as she stared at Fenella. “And now we've got it!”

Jess nodded dubiously. “But if there's one thing Skribble taught us, it's be careful what you wish for.”

“You must be Jess,” said Fenella. “Skribble said you were the sensible one.” She looked at Milly and her smile grew wider. “And this pretty little chicken is young Milly, I presume. I can see why Skribble has a soft spot for you! Kind and sweet and fair, he told me.”

Milly glowed with pleasure.

“And Jason, the bright boy who saw me for what I am. ‘Perceptive.' That's how Skribble described you.” Finally, Fenella's blue eyes fixed on Michael with a look of surprise. “And so you must be Michael. I must say, I can't see
what
Skribble was talking about.”

Michael's eyes narrowed. “What did the worm say?”

“Oh, don't worry about that, pet,” Fenella said hastily. “He can't have meant it. Just his idea of a little joke, I'm sure. You seem a very fine, upstanding young man to me.” She looked at him from under her eyelashes. “And so brave, trying to rescue me like that! Oooh, such chivalry makes my feathers ruffle.”

Michael blushed and Milly giggled.

“So, why are you here?” Jess asked. “Why did Skribble tell you to find us?”

With a cheerful laugh, Fenella landed and looked up at them hopefully. “I have a little favor to ask of you. Skribble said he was sure you would help. However, I'm feeling a bit chilly right now.” Fenella shivered and then looked toward the shed. “Do you think we could maybe pop inside your little home and discuss it?”

“That's not where we live,” Milly said, realizing the bird thought they lived in the shed. “It's where Dad keeps his tools.”

“Is it?” Fenella struck her forehead with her wing. “Dearie me, aren't I silly? Skribble said you lived in a den, you see.”

“Our den is a room inside that big house,” said Milly, pointing behind her. “Would you like to go there?”

“Yes, please, pet,” said Fenella. “I've cooled off my
feathers now so I won't start any more blazes—”

“Hang on, hang on,” Michael interrupted. “What is this favor the worm said we'd help you with?”

Fenella gave Michael a coy look. “Cut to the chase, eh? Very well, then, I'll go and get my reason for coming here! Back in a moment. Don't go away.” She flapped back inside the shed.

“Wow!” breathed Milly. “Isn't she wonderful?”

Jess grinned at Michael. “She seems to like
you
, her brave young man.”

Crossing his arms and hunching his shoulders, Michael glared at his stepsister. “I'm just glad it was no one horrid after us.”

“I wonder what she's gone to get,” said Jason.

Just then Fenella emerged with what looked to be a smooth, red-gold football under one wing.

“What's that?” asked Milly in astonishment.

“Strange and baffling is what it is, my little jam puddings.” Fenella plonked the gleaming object on the grass. “I've laid an egg! Me, the one and only phoenix!” She looked both proud and puzzled. “I mean, what's
that
all about?”

Jess, Milly, and Michael exchanged confused looks. “Um…what's so weird about a bird laying an egg?” said Michael.

But Jason was nodding excitedly as if he understood. “The phoenix doesn't need an egg. There's just her. She lives to be really old and then sort of bursts into flame and is reborn from her ashes. You come back, don't you, Fenella—time and time again…”

“That's it exactly, lovie,” said Fenella proudly. “I go up in smoke, my ashes sit around for a while, then they catch light and I'm reborn as a brand-new, bright-eyed, and ever so slightly more
slinky
phoenix! Well, a girl can dream!” She threw back her beak and laughed raucously. “There was this one time I came back with the biggest, featheriest bottom you ever saw. Every time I flew up to my nest, it was like an eclipse of the sun!”

She gave another noisy peal of laughter, but Milly looked alarmed. “Poor Fenella, burning up like that…doesn't it hurt?”

“No, lovie, not a bit!” Fenella reassured her. “The whole magnificent process tickles more than anything. I do like a bit of heat…” She shivered, and looked hopefully at the children.

“Let's go inside,” urged Jess. “You can tell us more when we're in the den.”

“Ooooh, thank you.” Fenella looked delighted. “Just lead the way!”

 

A few minutes later, Fenella was perched on a big squashy beanbag in the middle of the den, her egg tucked between her feet and her tummy, her plumage softly glittering in the sunlight through the window. The children sat in front of her, Jason and Milly on the floor, Michael and Jess on the sofa.

“Can I pet you?” Milly asked, looking at the phoenix in awe.

The bird beamed. “Oh, yes. I do like a bit of a rub now and then. And I've lowered my temperature, so you'll be quite safe.”

Milly tentatively stroked Fenella's golden back. It was like touching a feathery hot water bottle. “Is that okay?”

Fenella cooed and rearranged her wings. “That's lovely. I am sorry about your workbench in the shed, you know.”

“Don't worry. Mark hardly ever goes in there,” said Jess. “He won't notice for ages.”

Fenella sighed. “I'm usually quite good at keeping my cool, but I'm getting these hot flushes at the moment. It'll be my age. I've burned up and come back at least twenty times, you know. Once every thousand years…”

“That's well ancient!” Michael said in awe.

“I prefer to use the word
mature
,” said Fenella.

“That's not a word in Michael's vocabulary,” Jess assured her.

Keen to solve the mystery, Jason leaned eagerly toward the golden bird. “So, if you normally come back out of ashes, why have you laid an egg?”

“That's what I'd like to know, sweet pea!” the phoenix said. “I've only laid an egg once before—about five centuries ago. I woke up one morning with a bit of a tummyache and then,
pop
! Out it came!”

“But then…” Jason frowned. “Does this mean you
aren't
the only phoenix in the world?”

“No, no. There's still just me. You see…the egg didn't hatch. I went and lost it.” Fenella's smile slipped a little. “Typical me. I laid it—then I
mis
laid it soon after. Oooh, I was ever so upset.” One of her blue eyes brimmed with a golden tear, which fell with a smoky sizzle to her plumage. “It gets lonely, you see, being the one and only phoenix. It would be my wish come true to have someone to look after. Someone I could share the years with. But alas, there it was—my one shot at bringing a new little phoenix into the world, or so I thought, and I'd blown it.” Her golden brow creased with determination. “But now I've been given a second chance and I'll not mess things up again. I'll hatch this egg whatever it takes.” She twittered. “Unfortunately, it seems to take a
lot
. At least, so Skribbaleum says, and he is an expert.”

Jess raised an eyebrow. “He is?”

Milly clasped her hands together. “How
is
Skribble? Is he okay? Did somebody nice pick up the lamp we put him in? Did they—”

“So many questions, my little duckling!” Fenella chuckled. “I'm not entirely sure what's happened to him since he bade you
au revoir
, but I bumped into him in Morocco.”

“Morocco?” Jason echoed. “Wow! What was he doing there?”

“Well,” said Fenella, rustling her feathers with the air of someone who has a story to tell. “Just picture it. There I was, perched in a tree in the Souss-Massa National Park one beautiful summer's evening, just a few weeks back, when I heard these angry voices overhead. It was two humans in a hot air balloon! Rough fellers they were—proper hooligans—fighting over a magic lamp!” She shook her head disapprovingly. “They tussled and the lamp fell out of the basket. Just like that! It came tumbling past my beak and ended up on the forest floor.” Fenella smiled. “I picked it up, rubbed the side, and out popped Skribble.”

Jess was full of curiosity. “So what did he
say
?”

“Well, I took him back to my nest for a lovely cup of green tea and it turned out he knew a prophecy about my egg! He'd read it while locked up in the Great Genie Library all that time ago.” Fenella cooed proudly. “Just think, me
and my little egg in a prophecy in the Genie Library! How grand is that?”

“What did the prophecy say?” Michael asked.

Fenella shook her feathers proudly. “That any egg I lay contains ‘power unheard of in all the realms,' and that if it is to hatch properly I have to build a very special nest and get hold of four extra-rare ingredients.”

“What are they?” asked Jason eagerly.

Fenella's voice grew grander, more theatrical. “‘To hatch a phoenix egg, one needs four wondrous things. First, a…'” She paused and then looked crestfallen. “Actually, lovies, I've forgotten. Have you got my map there?”

“Hold on…” Jason pulled it out from his back pocket—and gasped. “It's changed!” he squeaked. “The map doesn't show our house and Moreways Meet anymore.”

“Of course not,” chuckled Fenella as Michael, Milly, and Jess crowded around to see. “It's a magic map, remember? And since I've found you, it doesn't need to lead me here any longer—so it's showing what I've got to find next. Remind me, Michael, pet, would you?”

Michael stared. The yellowed paper now displayed four intricate line drawings—one depicting the sun with a strange pattern scratched all over it; one showing an old Egyptian pyramid topped with a bundle of sticks; one illustrating a mountain peak topped with a leaf-shaped rain
cloud; and the final image describing a kind of deformed stick of celery with leaves like hands and a heart perched on top. A few lines of exotic, slanted handwriting accompanied each of the cryptic scenes.

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