The adventure: Eliot finds, loses, and then rediscovers his wings.
The time: September 1987
The place(s): Chesapeake, Virginia; Dunster, Somerset
Prompt: frisson #vss365 (view original tweet)
“So, lad, I need your help.”
Nelson pulled a blue feather from his breast pocket.
A #frisson tingled Eliot’s spine. He glanced at his pigeon suit, limp on a hanger, a gap in its tail.
A rush of air swirled the feather. The lab door swung.
“Hurrah! Boss! You’re back!”
gossamer #vss365
“Hello Eliot. Who’s your new friend?”
“Boss, this is Nelson!” Eliot grinned, tapped his nose and winked. “He’s from… O.K.A.P.I.”
“Is he now?” The head of Wings extended a firm handshake. “Welcome, Agent.” Then she spotted the #gossamer feather, drifting to the floor.
vile #vss365
“No offence, but that can’t be from the #vile bowels of O.K.A.P.I?”
“Oh, no offence taken, Miss… Ma’am… umm…” Nelson floundered.
“Name’s Tric. Professor Tric. Prof is fine.”
They both bent down, stretching for the feather.
Their hands brushed.
Nelson blushed.
verdant #vss365
Tric grasped the feather and strode to a microscope.
“Come, Eliot,” she beckoned. The lad bounced to her side.
He peered into the lens. The quill was a tiny tree trunk. The vane a #verdant canopy. And, hopping from barb to barb, were plump birds with a sheen like oil.
breath #vss365
“I saw pigeons!” Eliot beamed.
Tric nodded. “Agent, will you look?”
Under Nelson’s eye, the feather barbs were a mesh of knitted steel. A cruel, tiny, iridescent cage. His #breath caught and Tric nodded again.
“Where did you find this, Agent? It is not of our time.”
reverie #vss365
“Boss! Boss! Is it really old?” Eliot chirruped.
Tric was stroking the feather, lost in a soft blue #reverie.
“Ma’am. Sorry, I mean, Prof.” The curve of Tric’s chin was making it hard for Nelson to focus. “I, um, need to show…”
Inside his carpet bag, a box buzzed.
ancient #vss365
Under Nelson’s stern glare, the box squatted silently on the bench.
“Ooh!” Eliot clapped his hands “What’s that? Does it open? Is it #ancient too?”
Tric’s mind snapped back. “It’s not old, Eliot.”
Now Nelson was pinned by a stare. “Agent, where did that box find you?”
crucible #vss365
“Why do you ask?” Nelson frowned.
“Because, Agent, I think it’s a #crucible for the imagination.”
“Oh.” A penny dropped. “It’s from South Africa. I was looking for, um, Laika.”
“The space dog who died?” Eliot gloomed.
As one, Nelson and Tric snapped “She’s not dead.”
willow #vss365
“I don’t get it.” Eliot jutted his lower lip.
Tric drew a slow breath. “You saw birds, a #willow, under the microscope?”
“Yes.”
“Nelson saw a cage. Me, a cloud of flaring synapses.”
“So?”
“We each found our mind’s piece of the puzzle.”
Fireworks burst from the box.
smoke #vss365
The fireworks subsided, the box #smoked, and the Prof expounded her theory.
“O.K.A.P.I. are up to their old tricks. They’ve stolen someone’s stories, caged their birds. The box wants us to help. But who?”
“I think I know.” Nelson’s voice tumbled into sudden, deep pain.
motif #vss365
Nelson had been livid when Dr Hope vanished. Her doubts had become a #motif. So, when a carrier pigeon clouted him with her notebook, he assumed she’d deserted O.K.A.P.I.
But, now, the start of her message made sense: “It seems we can’t always choose our own adventure.”
empathy #vss365
Nelson was muddying himself into a wallow over how little #empathy he had shown Hope.
Tric gripped him firmly by the shoulders. “Agent. Look at me. Focus. What else did the note say?”
It was all very well asking him to focus, with her mesmerising face so close to his.
ruse #vss365
Face to face, Nelson and Tric seemed to have paused mid-breath.
Eliot rolled his eyes and rummaged in the carpet bag for Hope’s notebook.
Inside the cover, the scrawled message ended “Enjoy page 5!”
Turning two leaves, Eliot gasped. Could this be an O.K.A.P.I. #ruse?
bolt #vss365
With a chubby finger, Eliot traced the map on page 5. There was a park, a river, and…
He clapped his hand to his mouth, trapping the unaccustomed #bolt of thought.
“I know this place! Prof! Agent! I know this tree. It’s a bossy old willow. It used to eat my bonbons.
totem #vss365
Tric smiled gently. “Eliot, you know I admire your enthusiasm, but I think you’ll find the willow is a #totem.”
The lad’s brow furrowed. Why did that dumb, trilby-topped Agent have to turn up and stop the Prof from thinking straight?
“No, Boss, it’s definitely a tree.”
sentient #vss365
Eliot stomped across the lab and grabbed his pigeon suit.
“You two can stay here being all #sentiental if you want. I’m off to find Hope’s birds.”
“The word is ‘sentimental’, Eliot,” Tric called as he charged through the door.
Nelson blushed. “Were we being, um?…”
embrace #vss365
Tric blinked off the #embrace of Nelson’s tawny eyes, and flustered over to the microscope.
“Come on, Agent! Grab that temperamental box. It’s just possible Eliot’s on to something, but…”
Nelson chimed in a close chord: “… He forgot to take the feather!”
scars #vss365
Tric and Nelson caught up with Eliot rather quickly, in the kitchen down the hall.
“Lunch, lad? Good plan. Peanut butter, eh? Yum!”
Eliot scowled at the over-cheery Agent, #scarred the bread diagonally, handed half to Tric and crammed the rest into his frowning mouth.
cosmic #vss365
Eliot led the way robustly across the park, swaddled in his pigeon suit.
“You never know when you’ll need to fly, eh?” Nelson winked at Tric.
To his surprise, she snapped back. “Have faith, Agent. All that boy needs is the right #cosmic alignment. One day he’ll soar.”
mythos #vss365
Eliot had been fidgeting as he walked. Now, he stopped in his tracks and lifted a wing. “Prof, is this itch a label?”
Parting the downy feathers, Tric found a small tag. “Yes. Wasn’t it always there?
“No!”
“Hmm, that’s odd.”
“What does it say?”
“#Mythos Inc.”
epoch #vss365
“Mythos Inc?” Where had Nelson seen that name before?
They passed an old carousel. Ahead, a river blued the dusk.
“See, Prof, it’s just like Hope’s map!” Eliot pointed at an #epoch-old willow.
“Hello tree! Remember me? I don’t have bonbons. Would you like a sandwich?”
psyche #vss365
“I’ve got it!” Nelson flung his carpet bag onto the river bank, pulled out the box and turned it upside down. It shuddered at the indignity.
“I swear that thing has a #psyche.”
“Never mind that, Prof. Look!” The Agent jabbed eagerly at a small maker’s mark: Mythos Inc.
equanimity #vss365
Nelson righted the box. It quickly regained its #equanimity. The same could not be said for Eliot.
“Are that stroppy thing and my pigeon suit from the same place?”
Tric breathed a small nod.
“But where?”
“Not where, Eliot. When. I believe they’re from the future.”
liberty #vss365
“Oh yes, sure, Prof. Whatever you say.” Eliot thought his leg was being pulled. He flapped off dismissively, the #liberty of the river breeze lifting his feathers.
“The future?” Nelson turned wide eyes onto Tric. “I wonder… thing is… there was this porcupine…”
sting #vss365
Eliot stomped fiercely along the river, his ego #stinging at the Prof’s supposed slight.
Meanwhile, Nelson had finally impressed Tric.
“So, you escaped a lion, found a secret passage, and scaled Table Mountain?”
On retelling, the failed mission did sound rather brave.
trick #vss365
“Maybe the porcupine was a #trick, to stop me catching Laika?”
“Well, obviously.” Tric’s mind had surged ahead, leaving Nelson glowing faintly in its tail lights. “The pertinent question is, who tricked you?”
“Prof! Agent! Look!” Eliot appeared to have stopped sulking.
fury #vss365
Eliot sensed the river’s #fury as it was swallowed by a snarling tunnel.
Nelson tipped his trilby. “We can’t go through there without a boat.”
“Duh, you don’t say.”
“What’s got into you, Eliot?” Tric snapped, before fishing a pair of crampons from her dungaree pocket.
tunnel #vss365
Tric clambered up the rocky hill above the #tunnel. Nelson scrambled after her.
Eliot, despite his wings, was a little afraid of heights. Maybe, if he counted the steps, he’d be okay? “1…2…”
He paused at 75, feeling strangely at home, a soft breeze in his feathers.
boy #vss365
Tric and Nelson stood before a strangely quaint vista of villages and rolling fields.
“Surely that’s not…Somerset?” The Prof muttered.
“Summer who?” Nelson frowned. “And where’s the #boy got to?”
“Who’re you calling a boy?” Eliot crested the hill. “300…301…302!”
delve #vss365
Eliot blinked down at the unexpected countryside. “Prof, where’s Chesapeake gone?”
“That’s the thing with cities.” Tric smiled. “If you #delve deep enough, climb high enough, their foundations are roots, their roofs are leaves.
“And, if I climb high enough, I can fly!”
unlikely #vss365
The wind stole a loose feather from Eliot’s suit. It swirled off the cliff. He gulped.
“Prof, I think we’re running out of time. I must try.”
Tric’s heart tumbled as the #unlikely pigeon leapt, spread his winged arms, closed his eyes, whispered: “I can fly. I can fly!”
verdant #vss365
Eliot plunged towards the #verdant fields. A small doubt fluttered in his mind.
Inside Nelson’s carpet bag, the strange box rattled and thrashed. The agent jumped aside. A wild fury of talons, beak and wings erupted, swooped off the cliff and grasped the pigeon’s back.
fly #vss365
“I knew it! I knew I could fly!” Eliot almost clapped his hands with glee, then remembered his arms were wings. “Phew, that was close.”
He didn’t notice the talons hooked in his belt, or the deep static flapping of the bird, drifting him gently towards a pinkish castle.
folly #vss365
As they flew further from the box, the huge bird began to glitch. It veered off course and dropped Eliot into a hollow stone #folly.
The lad tumbled three storeys, landed unceremoniously on a heap of leaves, staggered to his feet and glared accusingly at his wings.
joke #vss365
“If that was a #joke it wasn’t funny.”
“Reckon you’re the joke, talking to your fancy dress.”
Startled, Eliot flapped and backed up to the wall.
The lanky teenager snorted. “S’alright, Pigeon, I won’t eat you. Yet.”
“Who…Who are you?
“Name’s Le Thal. Who are you?”
answer #vss365
The curl of Le Thal’s lip caused Eliot to tuck his #answer under his tongue.
“Come on, spit it out!”
“I…”
“Hang on, you’re not with that odd woman who broke into the crypt?”
“Umm…”
“Dr Hope. Dumbest name ever.”
“Hope?” Eliot fluttered. “Yes. Yes! I’m with her!”
hell #vss365
Nelson and Tric scrambled down a rocky scree, tracing Eliot’s flight path. The Agent fell, trilby over heels, and landed in a bramble.
“#Hell’s bells! I’ve got thorns somewhere unment…”
Tric impatiently dragged him from the bush. He blushed blackberry at her touch.
queen #vss365
Le Thal nudged Eliot up the hill, his pigeon suit chafing in the heat. He squinted in awe at the broad-shouldered rise of the castle walls, midday dancing off its windows.
“Does the #Queen live here?”
Le Thal spluttered. “You idiot. Wait ’til I tell d’Angers that one!”
cellar #vss365
“Come on, Agent. Eliot could be beak-down in a ditch!” Tric clambered towards a pink stone folly where they’d seen the pigeon fall from the sky.
“Hang on,” Nelson huffed, “I can’t go any faster. I’ve still got thorns stuck in my…umm… #cellar.”
Tric rolled her eyes.
wildfire #vss365
As Nelson rested by the folly, a broken bundle of beak and talons dragged itself from a bush, towards his carpet bag.
Tric spotted a fistful of pigeon feathers, ground into the mud. A bolt of #wildfire fear surged to her fingertips.
“Agent, I think Eliot’s been taken.”
evaporate #vss365
Le Thal shoved Eliot, feathers flying, through the castle door and into Dunster’s shadow.
“M’Lady, I found another intruder. This one thinks he’s a pigeon!”
“Quiet, boy.” Le Thal’s bravado #evaporated as Dunster turned back to Hope, her inky fingers storying the floor.
glory #vss365
His hour of #glory ruined, Le Thal stormed from the castle. His pounding blood was echoed by new footsteps on the hill.
“Hey, lad, where should we go from here?”
Le Thal glared through his red fog at the latest strangers. “Nowhere. You can all damn well go to nowhere.”
peaks #vss365
Nelson shrugged as the surly boy stormed out of sight.
“Well, Prof, England isn’t very hospitable. First the bramble and now this.”
“Seriously, Agent, Eliot’s been kidnapped, could be dead! Are a thorny rear and a rude child really the twin #peaks of your indignation?”
vermillion #vss365
The Agent bloomed #vermillion at the rebuke. “I’m sorry, Prof, I…”
Tric was already 50 yards away, trailing pigeon feathers towards the castle that crowned the hill.
Nelson was briefly lost in the beauty of her striding silhouette, before he was dive-bombed by a bee.
imagine #vss365
Hearing a familiar voice, Tric ran into the Hall and hugged the startled pigeon. “Eliot! I’ve been #imagining all sorts!”
Meanwhile, a tall, robed lady greeted Nelson.
“Um, hello Ma’am. Where are we?”
“This is Dunster castle.”
“Oh. So where is he?
“Who?”
“Dunster.”
favourite #vss365
Squirming self-consciously, Eliot squeezed from Tric’s embrace. He knelt and fanned the flushed, wild-eyed Hope. The ‘Mythos Inc’ label on his wing flapped before her face.
The Doc smiled softly. “Oh, pigeon, I knew you’d come back to me. You were always my #favourite.”
linger #vss365
At Hope’s words, her heart fluttered. A furious whirl of orange and blue burst from her chest, landed tattoo-like on her shoulder and #lingered, its beady eye fixed on Eliot.
“Oh, silly bird, it’s possible to have more than one favourite!”
“Is it?” The boy’s face fell.
haven #vss365
“Apparently so, young man. Just ask a Knight.” Dover descended the last stair and glared pointedly at Thomas.
“I think she’s talking about stories, dove.”
“Yes!” Hope nodded. “Our hearts are a #haven for a circling flock of favourites, Eliot. A perfect bird for every mood.”
blindside #vss365
“But didn’t O.K.A.P.I. steal your stories? We’re here to help you find them!”
Hope frowned. “Don’t you already know where the others are?”
Eliot was #blindsided. “What do you mean ‘the others’?”
Dunster cast a warning glance at Hope and a hand onto the boy’s shoulder.
wild #vss365
“Now, Eliot, aren’t you hungry after your journey? How about tea and cake?”
The pigeon swung his wing #wildly, casting Dunster away. “No! I’m sick of people talking behind my back. What does she mean ‘the others’?!”
Dover nodded. “Yes, sister, he deserves the truth.”
bright #vss365
Dover limped forwards and proffered her walking stick.
“I don’t need…”
“Yes you do.”
Turning the burnished blackthorn in his hand, Eliot spotted a maker’s mark. He jabbed the stick into a #bright shaft of sunlight. The engraved words jabbed him back:
‘Mythos Inc’.
shatter #vss365
The stick clattered to the floor, #shattering the sudden silence.
Eliot spun from face to face, hunting for a reflection of his dismay.
Only Nelson’s puzzled head-scratching came close. “Mythos Inc again, eh? Magic boxes, fancy dress, walking sticks… Whatever next?”
skyline #vss365
“Trust you to miss the point!” Tric fumed past Nelson as Eliot flapped from the castle.
She caught up with her protégé on the lip of the hill, watching the #skyline quivering into vowels.
“Are we really just stories, Prof?”
“Maybe it depends what you mean by ‘just’.”
tangled #vss365
“Did you know all along?” Eliot turned accusingly to Tric.
“No I didn’t.”
“And don’t you care?”
The Prof sternly eyed the Os and Es until they #tangled back into clouds. “Don’t you think it’s amazing, Eliot? We’re inside a story! Let’s find the fun between the lines.”
million #vss365
Tric coaxed Eliot back to the castle, her mind cartwheeling as they walked.
“Just think, if we’re in Hope’s head, she can take us anywhere! On a #million adventures!”
Eliot shrugged. “Not if she’s lost her stories.”
“Well, all the more reason to help find her birds.”
forever #vss365
As Tric sihouetted the door, Sir Thomas nudged Nelson. “So, who’s the fine lass in the trousers?”
The Agent’s pride lioned. “That’s the Prof. Smartest woman… smartest person I know.” Then he startled himself. “She is my #forever.”
Tom smiled. “I have three of those.”
mystery #vss365
“Agent! This is no time for whispering in corners.”
Blushing, Nelson scurried to Tric. Thomas scratched his head. Perplexed, yet again, at the #mysterious power of a good woman.
“Agent, tell Dr Hope what the microscope showed you.”
“A cage, Ma’am. A branching cage.”
serendipity #vss365
Hope swung her deep blues to the still-sulking pigeon. “Did your homing instinct or #serendipity lead you to Dunster?”
“No, your notebook.” Eliot muttered.
“My notebook?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Nelson dived elbow-deep into his carpet bag. “Don’t you recall? You flew it to me!”
uprooted #vss365
Beneath Hope’s canopy, Vixen snouted through drifts of violets, #uprooted celandines, rolled over heavy, crystallised ideas until she found one that was feathered like a frosted window.
Inside, steel bars fountained from the floor and curved, forked, like a brutal tree.
chthonic #vss365
I think the tree cage may be #chthonic.” Tric glanced around the hall. Confusion blinked back. Even Hope was perplexed.
“How did you just use a word I don’t know?”
Before Tric could hypothesise, a shock of fiery hair led a scampering boy into the castle.
“Hello Doc!”
dance #vss365
The flame-headed boy #danced feather-light across the hall to Hope. Her eyes flickered with joy.
“Oh, my! Dear firecrest, you’re all grown up!”
Eliot glowered as the pair embraced. “A bird for every dumb mood!” This time no one noticed as he stormed out of the door.
inevitable #vss365
“My name is Ember now, Doc.”
The firecrest’s mind had already grown into his powerful new, human body. This rewrite had always been #inevitable, but Hope felt a tug of nostalgia for her lost chick.
Tric paced impatiently. “Never mind your name, can you take us to the cage?”
blood #vss365
Eliot stomped down Castle Hill, the Mythos Inc label chafing beneath his wing.
A sob surged. He bit his lip. Tiny red noughts and crosses trickled down his chin.
He smeared them with an angry fist. O positive. Of course. Even his #blood was made of Hope’s stupid words.
organ #vss365
Sorrow-fuelled fury brought Eliot to an abrupt halt.
“She might be the #organ grinder, but I’m no monkey. And…I refuse to be her pigeon!”
He wriggled furiously out of the bird suit and strode on down the hill.
Soft grey feathers drifted like lost love in his wake.
bones #vss365
Despite Ember’s singed tailcoat, Tric was dubious about his incendiary escape from the cage. But Thomas picked over the #bones of the story. Melkor. The tunnel. The air vent.
“The birds are under the village!”
Dover rallied her knees. “You can make it. Our past is at stake.”
lovers #vss365
“So then,” Nelson whispered as they walked, “were you and Dover #lovers?”
Thomas just smiled enigmatically.
“Okay. So how about you and Dunster?”
“Upon my Ladies’ honours, I couldn’t possibly say.”
“Come on you two!” Tric beckoned, “This hill won’t unclimb itself.”
skin #vss365
The tethered balloon rides were underway at Dunster Show.
A thin rainbow #skin of hot air lifted a small boy wearing a fancy-dress saucepan hat.
From the basket he saw a crowd on Castle Hill, a man-raven, lost lads, a sullen servant. All tiny, converging dots of story.
monster #vss365
Back on the hill, Nelson yelped at a feathery hunch in the grass.
“#Monster!”
Dunster smiled. “It’s the pigeon suit.”
Tric hadn’t even seen Eliot leave. Flushing red, she grabbed the grey bundle.
“He must’ve dropped it.”
No one dared point out how unlikely that was.
refrain #vss365
Marching fiercely in no particular direction, Eliot wielded his fury like a sword.
But the sky was too blue, the sun too determined. And then the Show was upon him.
A whiff of cinnamon buns. A rainbow-striped hot air balloon. The boy battled to #refrain from smiling.
date #vss365
The sullen servant squinted around the showground for a firecrest. But he found no birds. Just boys.
One sulking on a bench.
Another with a pan on his head, like he had a #date with the oven.
And, yes, that black speck staggering through the gate was surely the pesky Le Thal?
tackle #vss365
“I…I swear. They were all here.”
Beneath Dunster village, Ember’s confidence flickered, casting shadows of doubt along the tunnel.
“We believe you, lad.” Thomas smiled. “But Melkor is cunning. Let’s #tackle this puzzle like him. Where would true darkness hide birds?”
rave #vss365
The child in fancy dress gulped and clutched his mother’s hand.
“What’s up, love?”
His saucepan hat quivered.
A cloaked figure was striding winter shade across the grass. A pale, sweating lad #raved in his wake.
“Oh, the gulls… Please no beaks… I’m not the sky!”
mint #vss365
“D’you want a #mint?”
The child tugged his mother towards a lad on a bench.
“I am the Great Sir Edward!” The boy tapped his pan. “I won these Polos. Second Prize! Who’re you supposed to be?”
“I… I…” Damp loss suddenly traced Eliot’s cheek. “I used to be a pigeon.”
loom #vss365
“Yes! A pigeon!” Mini Ed clapped his hands. “I knew you had wings! That man’s got them too. But he’s come as a raven!”
Confused, Eliot looked first at his featherless shoulders, then at a dark figure near the hot air balloon, gesticulating and #looming over… Le Thal?
lash #vss365
Spying the raven man, the servant scuttled across the field.
“My Lord Melkor! The firecrest is here somewhere! Where are the other b…”
Melkor spun round, furious eyes #lashing Mr Japes’ last word to his tongue.
“You fool! Do something useful for once. Unleash the balloon!”
strike #vss365
Japes #struck the tethers from the ground. Melkor dragged Le Thal to the basket. Eliot stormed towards the balloon.
Soon the two boys were face to face, bleak mirrors of each other’s pain.
In unison, voices veined with fury, they spluttered…
“This is your fault.”
slip #vss365
Eliot grabbed Le Thal’s collar. “Why’d you take me to that stupid castle?!”
“Fat lot of good it did me! Idiot pigeon! Arrrggghhh…”
Le Thal grasped his head and stumbled sideways. Both boys #slipped to the wicker floor. The basket began to wriggle off the ground.
part #vss365
Sir Thomas led the way out of the bleak tunnel. Tric was close behind, still clutching an empty pigeon suit.
Half way up, the soft bundle began to quiver, its wings twitched and #parted.
“Eliot’s in trouble!” Fear dilated the Professor’s voice. “He needs his feathers!”
omen #vss365
“Maybe the flapping suit is a good #omen?” Thomas reached the street and encountered a giant marrow with legs.
“Ah, Miss Pearl! Have you seen a lost boy?
“Which one, dear Sir Thomas?” A blush rounded the marrow. “They’re everywhere. Even Lord Melkor’s towing a lad about.”
crystal #vss365
“Melkor?” Tric emerged from the tunnel. “Where is he?”
Pearl frowned at the disruption to her tête-à-tête with Thomas, but gestured to a balloon rising on the blue #crystal horizon.
Tric dashed off. Tom, Nelson, Hope, Dunster, Dover and Ember all scurried in her wake.
rice #vss365
“Why My Lord, why?!” Le Thal’s words fell like hard, dry rice through the colander of the rising basket.
A knife of a smile split Melkor’s face. “I’m sending those birds far out of reach of that idiot Hope!”
“Hope’s birds?” Eliot lunged at Le Thal. “What does he mean?”
fickle #vss365
Le Thal scowled. “Mind yer own beeswax, Pigeon.”
Eliot’s shoulders squared. “Hope’s business is my business.”
The balloon rose, past…
Marquees.
Trees.
The castle on the hill.
Unnoticed by the twin glares in the basket, the sky began to turn #fickle at its edges.
guru #vss365
B l
u e broke off the horizon, exposing a nameless darkness.
“Hope ain’t no #guru, you know!…Ouch!” A glowing ‘S’ struck Le Thal’s arm.
Eliot looked up. A ‘u’ and ‘n’ fell hot and hard onto his face.
“No, she’s not a guru. She’s far more important than that.”
pixel #vss365
“Yeah, right!” Le Thal sneered over a squawking chorus in his head.
Eliot pointed at Melkor, shrinking to a single #pixel far below. “He’s destroying our world!”
“That’s ridic…”
Both boys staggered. They’d struck a cloud. A loose ‘C’ scythed a hole in the balloon.
amber #vss365
Above the splintering #amber of the burner, the balloon’s rainbow crumpled. Loose pieces of cirrus clattered down. The scent of cinnamon buns rushed up.
“We’re going to crash!” Eliot seized Le Thal. “I’m not falling from the sky twice today! Where are Hope’s birds?!”
velvet #vss365
“They’re my birds now!” Le Thal sneered.
“What do you mean…?”
“Hellooooo, Pigeon!”
The perky greeting distracted Eliot. Directly below, atop the deceptive #velvet of the field, stood the boy with a saucepan on his head.
Eliot gulped. “We’re going to flatten Ed!”
sway #vss365
Eliot spun back round. “This is serious. Where are the birds?!”
Le Thal gave a wild laugh, #swayed and collapsed beneath an eagle-shriek of pain.
They were doomed. But maybe Eliot could still save Mini Ed? If the balloon was lighter, maybe it’d drift clear of the Show?
mirage #vss365
“Look, mum, the sky’s falling in!” Mini Ed pointed a sticky finger.
“Oh, that’s just a #mirage, silly. You’ve had too many cinnamon buns.”
But the broken bits of breeze striking his face felt real…
And what was Pigeon doing up there, perched on the edge of his nest?
curry #vss365
Melkor also stared up at Eliot, his dark grin stretching like nightfall.
“Well done My Lord, that boy’s a goner!”
Japes began well, but over-spiced his effort to #curry favour. “That’s a lovely hole in the sky too!”
Melkor twitched. He’d not noticed the raining words.
serpentine #vss365
The basket’s dilating shadow greyed Ed’s pan. Time was running out.
Before Eliot’s eyes, letters torn from sun, sky, earth and sea #serpentined into Hope’s words…
‘Oh, Pigeon, you were always my favourite.’
Eliot brushed away a tear, took a deep breath, and jumped.
vow #vss365
Ed gasped, Melkor smirked, Japes #vowed eternal fealty, and Eliot plummeted.
Three pairs of raised eyes saw a new memory fill the air.
‘Our hearts are a haven for a circling flock of favourites.’
As Eliot fell past the words, an alternative ending fluttered his chest.
lucid #vss365
The balloon’s plunge slowed when Eliot leapt but Ed was still in danger.
Where were the birds?
From a flightless chaos of fear and fury, Eliot suddenly hatched. #Lucid, bold, heroic.
His spine tingled, wings burst from his back and he cried:
“I am Pigeon! I am Hope!”
pastel #vss365
At Eliot’s proud call, the birds trapped in Le Thal’s head launched a deafening, swirling chorus of
Hope
Hope
Hope
The boy screamed. “You win! I can’t take any more!”
The flock burst free, filling the sky; a #pastel whirl of every shade of feather known to flight.
wring #vss365
Striding through the town, Tric had seen the shrinking sky #wring all breath from the balloon.
Now, a taloned kettle of kites and falcons grasped the crumpled rainbow, lifting it clear of the Show.
And who was that, flapping in joyous, clumsy circles around the basket?
sliver #vss365
As the balloon came safely to rest, Eliot wobbled a landing and bounced off the marquee.
A strange, iridescent blue #sliver of his tail broke free, floating to the feet of the boy with a saucepan on his head.
“Bye, Sir Ed!” The pigeon saluted and strode into Tric’s embrace.
suave #vss365
As Mini Ed cheered and waved the blue feather, the last smear of #suave satisfaction slid from Melkor’s face.
Japes glanced from his defeated Lord to the hole in the sky, its gape closing as
b l u e
c l o u d
and
s u n
spelled the world whole again.
Want more Hope?
Get email updates about new stories and other ‘Written in Hope’ news. Hope’s creations (especially Eliot) will be thrilled, and we’ll never sell or trade your email address.