The Pearl Quest (2 page)

Stuffing the sling away, Tia hurried to the swan. Her neck was bleeding and her tail was chewed and battered. She shuffled protectively over her nest and hissed at Tia.

‘I won't hurt you,' Tia said.

‘How can you understand me?' the swan asked.

Tia automatically touched the familiar space on her shirt but the bump of the emerald wasn't there. Of course, she'd given it to Finn. She'd forgotten in all the excitement. ‘I don't know,' she said truthfully. ‘I want to help.'

‘Find Orn,' the swan said.

‘Who's Orn? Where is he?'

‘He's the Swan Keeper of Holmurholt. He went that way.' The swan pointed unsteadily with her beak. ‘He's checking our nests.'

‘I'll go as fast as I can,' Tia promised.

After a few steps she found herself on firmer ground and began to run. Halfway round the island she caught sight of a tall, skinny man.

‘Orn!' Tia yelled, running faster and flailing her arms to attract his attention. ‘A swan's been attacked by foxes. I think they were trying to get her eggs,' she panted.

‘Show me,' Orn said urgently.

Tia led the way back to the swan. Another had joined her. ‘It's her mate,' Orn said.

‘We've come to help,' Tia told the agitated birds. She turned to Orn. ‘What are you going to do?'

‘I'll take her to the Lady Ondine. She'll use her magic pearl to heal the swan.'

Tia's heart began to race. Perhaps she'd be able to see the High Witch and her pearl more quickly than she'd hoped.

‘Will it be all right if I come with you – to see the High Witch heal the swan?' Tia asked.

Orn's face broke into a beaming smile. ‘Of course,' he said heartily. Tia thought he sounded a bit relieved.

As the Swan Keeper carefully wrapped the injured bird in his coat and lifted her up, the other swan settled on the nest. Orn strode off towards a boat beached in the reeds and placed the swan in the stern. He and Tia pushed the boat out. She scrambled in and the Swan Keeper took the oars. As he pulled away Tia realised that there was no bridge connecting the main island to the others. The only way onto it was by boat.

As Orn rowed steadily, Tia trailed her hand in the water and tried to work out why she was still able to
talk to animals. Orn said, ‘Tell me about yourself. Are you a Trader? You're fairer than most.'

Tia told him her invented story of being lost as a baby and taken in by Traders who brought her up as their own. The Swan Keeper listened carefully and asked her questions. Tia had to think quickly, making sure her made-up facts matched the rest of her story. She was relieved when the boat bumped into a small jetty and Orn lost interest in her tale.

‘Here we are.' Orn moored the boat and lifted out the swan. ‘This way.'

Tia took a deep breath and walked beside Orn to the palace. Soon she would see her mother again, for the first time in eight years.

O
rn and Tia hurried along a stone-flagged path winding through grass dotted with drifting white feathers. Swans grazed the grass, making tearing noises as they pulled at it with their beaks.

When they reached the palace the Swan Keeper, with Tia close behind, strode up the stone steps and through the open door into a lofty hall.

‘What do you think you're doing!' a voice boomed. A tall man in black, carrying an ebony cane topped with a silver swan, strode towards them.

‘I've got an injured swan, Grimmar,' Orn said. ‘You know how the Lady Ondine loves her swans – she'll want to heal it as soon as she can.'

Tia didn't believe that for a moment. None of the High Witches loved anything except riches and power.

‘Very well,' the man in black said. ‘Come with me.'

As Tia took a step forward Grimmar held her back with his cane.

‘Who is this…' he sniffed ‘…disreputable creature?' He looked down his long nose at Tia.

‘I'm not disreputable!' she protested.

‘Indeed?' Grimmar looked Tia up and down from her tousled hair to her mud-caked boots.

‘She found the swan and helped me with it,' Orn said, staring intently at Grimmar. ‘She's a Trader child – she has a way with the birds.'

Grimmar's eyebrows rose. He lowered his cane. ‘Very well.' He turned towards a flight of stairs spiralling dizzily upwards.

Tia scampered after the two men. Why had it made a difference when Orn said she was a Trader? There hadn't been any wanted notices with her picture on it in the town and no-one had taken any notice of her despite her Trader clothing. Perhaps it was nothing to do with being a Trader; perhaps Grimmar had been impressed by what Orn had said about her way with swans.

Still, she was careful to note the way they were going in case she had to make a quick escape. And she felt in her pocket for the reassuring touch of her sling and pebbles.

By the time they'd gone through wood-panelled corridors on the top floor and entered a spacious chamber, Tia was on her toes, all her senses alert for danger.

‘You may place the bird on that table,' Grimmar said, pointing with his cane. ‘I shall inform the Lady Ondine you are here.' He left, the sound of his cane tap-tapping down the corridor.

Orn lowered the swan onto a large table in the centre of the room, unwrapped his coat and folded it around the swan like a nest. ‘She's not doing well.'

The bird's long neck drooped till her beak touched the table top.

‘You'll be all right,' Tia reassured her. ‘I'm sure the Lady…' She swallowed. It was hard to say her mother's name. ‘…Ondine will be able to help you.'

‘She will,' Orn said. ‘The High Witch treasures the swans.'

‘Indeed I do,' a voice said.

Tia turned slowly, making herself as small as she could beside the rangy Swan Keeper.

And there was her mother.

Ondine stood in the doorway. Her hair, exactly the same red-gold shade as Tia's, was tied back and bound by a diadem. A lustrous pearl hung from the golden circlet and rested on Ondine's forehead. Her
expression was full of concern as she looked from Orn to the swan. She didn't seem to notice Tia at all.

But you're my mother
, Tia protested silently.
Don't you realize who I am?

Feelings tumbled through Tia: longing for her mother to know her, yet fear she'd be recognised as the jewel thief; anger at her mother for betraying the dragons, yet yearning for Ondine to care about her.

With the feelings clashing inside her, Tia watched Ondine examine the swan with gentle hands. The High Witch closed her eyes and the pearl on her forehead began to glow. Gradually the wounds on the bird's neck healed and her rump grew new, smooth feathers. She rose on steady feet, flapped her wings vigorously and honked.

Ondine opened her eyes and laughed. The sheen on the pearl faded.

‘As you can see, the bird is healed, Master Orn,' she said to the Swan Keeper. ‘Now, tell me, how did this happen?'

Orn explained about the foxes and Tia's part in driving them away. He pushed her forward. ‘I brought the girl to you. I thought you'd want to see her.'

Tia stood with her head down.

‘You did well, Master Orn,' Ondine said. ‘I'll send a reward to your house. Now, take the swan back to her nest.'

Tia wondered if the reward was for bringing the swan – or bringing her. Still keeping her head down, she went to help the Swan Keeper.

‘Wait, swan child.'

Tia's head flicked up. ‘I'm not a swan child.'
I'm a DragonChild
, she thought defiantly. ‘I'm Patia,' she said aloud, using yet another Trader name in case
the High Witch had heard the names ‘Nadya' and ‘Sura' that she'd used before.

Ondine nodded, her expression solemn. ‘How is it, Patia, that you have a Trader name yet look more like a Tulayan?'

Tia repeated her tale.

Ondine took Tia's face in her hands and murmured, ‘You look so like me as a child.' She dropped her hands. ‘I like you, Patia. You must stay with me. Come.'

The High Witch took Tia to a set of modest chambers. She pulled on a plaited rope and a tall girl, a few years older than Tia, appeared almost at once. She stared at Tia with round, surprised eyes as she bobbed a curtsey to the High Witch.

‘Thora,' the witch said, ‘this is Patia. She is to be my companion and you will be her maid. Find her suitable clothes and bring her to me in the white room tomorrow morning.'

With that, Ondine left. Tia glared at Thora. Why did people always want to change the way she dressed? ‘I don't want fancy skirts. I want a tunic and trousers.'

Thora bobbed a curtsey. ‘Whatever you wish.'

The girl's polite answer made Tia feel mean. ‘What I'd really like is something to eat,' she said. It
was almost evening and she was hungry. ‘And please don't curtsey to me. I'm nobody special.'

‘You're special to the Lady Ondine,' Thora said.

‘I don't know why.' Perhaps, Tia thought, it was because the High Witch was on the lookout for a Trader child and, now she'd found one, meant to keep her close. Though that was dangerous, it suited Tia. She could find out all about the pearl, which would make it easier to steal.

Thora was worse than a limpet on a rock. She hung rich clothes in the cupboard in Tia's bedroom. She showed Tia the bathing room and when she'd finished her bath, there was Thora in the main chamber setting a table with food.

Thora pulled out a chair for her. Tia plumped down, wondering how she was ever going to get rid of the maid. ‘I'm tired,' she said. ‘I think I'll go to sleep after I've eaten.'

Thora bobbed one of her irritating curtseys, rushed into the bedchamber and turned down the covers.

She curtseyed again when she came back. ‘I shall be sleeping in the outer room. Please call me if you need anything.'

‘I won't,' Tia said. ‘You don't have to stay with me.'

‘It's what the Lady Ondine has instructed me to do.' Thora left the room and closed the door. Tia was sure she'd locked it. She tried the handle and the door opened.

Thora sat bolt upright on the small cot she'd been lying on. ‘What can I do for you?' she asked.

Tia hadn't expected that. ‘Um, what time does the Lady Ondine want to see me tomorrow?' It was the only thing she could think of, though she really wanted to ask why Thora wouldn't go away and leave her alone.

‘She rises at dawn to study her magic. After that she has breakfast and then goes to the white room to do her sewing.'

Sewing! Tia couldn't imagine anything worse. She went back to her bedroom feeling like a prisoner. She was never going to be left alone to steal the pearl.

T
ia tossed and turned. Thoughts of Ondine raced around her head, mixed up with the few shadowy memories she had of her mother: a snatch of song, a warm hug, the sound of delighted laughter. How could these memories be true? Ondine was a cruel High Witch. She and her sisters only wanted to rule Tulay and become rich – that was why they'd stolen the dragons' jewels of power.

Tia turned her pillow over and pressed her hot cheek into its cool surface. How could her beloved father have married such a woman? And why hadn't her father kept his promise to find her and bring her home? Had Ondine done something terrible to him? After all, she had abandoned Tia to the dragons. She could have abandoned her husband too. Or done something even worse.

Tia sat up and hurled her pillow across the room. She hated Ondine. And now she was the High Witch's captive, with Thora acting like a jailer.

Tia needed fresh air. She got out of bed and stamped towards the open window, and a faint green glow caught the corner of her eye. Curious, she turned and found herself in front of a mirror. In the pale moonlight from the window Tia's face was only an indistinct blur but on her chest, just beneath her neck where the emerald had rested, was a small, hazy patch of luminous green.