Page 35 of Feathered Thief

Had His Majesty plucked the golden apple overnight? Who else would dare?

Trembling, she hugged the tree, resting her forehead against its rough bark. “Are you all right?” she murmured. “What happened? Is this the change you spoke of? A missing apple?”

Silence.

Yet the tree seemed happy. Content.

While Lenka gazed up through its leaves and blossoms to the morning sky streaked with pink and gold, she heard a gate open and the rumble of men’s voices.

The tree spoke in its own unhurried time and way.Apple with friend.

Startled, Lenka spoke aloud: “How can an apple have a friend?” Was the “friend” the woman she’d glimpsed?

As the deep voices grew louder, she jumped to grip the tree’s lowest branch and pulled herself up, tucking in her skirts andcarefully arranging her bow and quiver. She could see out, but no one would notice her unless she moved. Dense leaves and blossoms offered privacy while her mind puzzled over the tree’s enigmatic reply.

Unsurprisingly, the men approaching with Papa were the king and his two sons, whom she had seen from a distance several times before. Crown Prince Marek arrived first at the hilltop and squinted up at the tree’s branches. “Are you sure there was a ripe apple? It’s entirely the wrong time of year.”

“It’s a magical tree,” the king reminded his heir. “It produces fruit and blossoms every day of the year.” Up close, glimpsed through the foliage, King Gustik seemed ordinary, shaped like a brick and swaddled in fur this chilly morning.

Prince Dominik, the younger son, stood back to study the tree, his sharp-featured face expressionless. He turned to Papa Hrabik. “Who else has access to this garden? When was the apple last seen? Isn’t there some maidservant that knows about this tree?”

Lenka’s eyes went wide. The prince knew about her?

While the men talked, her tree spoke again.Bird is friend.

Confused, Lenka whispered, “Bird? What bird?”

Just then, Papa Hrabik called, “Lenka, come down here, please.” He sounded wary, and she heard him add in an undertone, “The girl is shy, sire.”

She inwardly braced herself before swinging down and dropping to the ground. With her gaze lowered, she bobbed a curtsy. “Your Royal Majesty.”

“She carries a bow and quiver,” Prince Dominik observed.

“To keep garden pests under control,” Papa Hrabik explained. “Rabbits, moles?—”

“Girl,” the king barked, “come here.”

Uncertain how close “here” might be, she stopped beside Papa Hrabik and curtsied again, deeply this time. Withoutpause, the king asked, “When did you last see the apple that was stolen?” As she opened her mouth, he added, “Look at me while you speak.”

She obediently raised her gaze to focus on his beard. “Your Royal Majesty, I saw the ripest apple last evening just before Papa Hrabik and I left the garden. But this morning I immediately saw that it . . . I mean the apple on that branch”—she indicated the exact twig—“was missing. It ripened before it was stolen.”

“By ‘ripened,’ do you mean it became solid gold?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” She curtsied again for good measure.

Prince Marek scoffed. “Ridiculous! You, maiden, expect us to believe that you have memorized the location and ripeness of every apple on this tree?”

She bobbed once more. “Your Royal Highness, I know only which apple will be next to ripen. It is my duty to know.”

Before the crown prince could respond, his brother asked, “Which apple is ripest now?” sounding genuinely curious.

Gaze lowered, she inquired, “Do you wish me to point it out, Your Highness?”

Crown Prince Marek blurted a scornful laugh, but the king said, “Yes, do point it out, and enough with the titles.”

“Yes, sire.” After bobbing another curtsy, Lenka walked around the tree to indicate the next ripest apple, which was at her eye level on the side nearest to the hawthorn tree. “This apple will turn gold next.”

The men followed her to stare at the green apple, which looked exactly like several others near it. “Can you prove it?” the king inquired with a hint of doubt.

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