Page 45 of Feathered Thief

She fished out a coin to press into his palm. He examined it briefly, then answered, “Come to think on it, I believe it’s nigh unto five years since treasure hunters started coming this way thick and fast. That first frenzy died out, but more dreamers are always headed here.” One of his intimidating brows lowered at Lenka. “Do you fancy yourself to be a prince?”

“No.” She indicated Papa and herself. “We are servants of King Gustik ofTrinec, sent on his business.”

Five years was roughly how long ago she and the golden-apple tree first appeared in the king’s garden. Could they somehow be connected to this treasure-hunt mystery?

“Well, you speak fancy like a king’s servant, but I’ll deem you and your weapons are harmless. You’re as skinny as a starved stork, and your ‘muscle’ here”—he indicated Papa—“is past his prime.” He chuckled at his own wit, and Lenka preserved a pleasant expression with heroic effort.

“Do you remember two princes who’ve passed through here recently?” she asked.

He gave her a rueful smile. “Two in the past month or so, both headed northeast to Lómza. To my knowledge, not one of the treasure hunters has ever returned this way.”

Exactly what Lenka needed to know. She thanked the gruff yet honest man, and they continued toward the distant high mountains. Once outside the village, she said, “That was encouraging.”

“Was it, now?” Papa sounded dubious.

Two days later, Lenka huddled beneath a tree, clenching her teeth to keep them from chattering. Her cloak and clothing were soaked through, and her feet were like blocks of ice in her boots. At least she couldn’t feel the blisters anymore, and her tears warmed her cheeks for a moment or two. Her sense of adventure had dwindled to extinction, and aside from the narrow road they’d been following through the forest, they hadn’t glimpsed even a hint of civilization in days.

“Wemustbe near the border by now,” she sobbed to herself. She knew she was behaving like a baby, but she simply couldn’t take another step. Papa was scouting ahead for a place to shelter. As soon as he left, she’d wanted him back. She would never havemade it this far—or even survived—without him. That much she knew.

On the far side of a stream, a fallow deer with two fawns approached to drink. She might have enjoyed watching the pretty creatures if she hadn’t been so hungry and half frozen.

Suddenly the doe flung up her head, staring past Lenka. The fawns instantly dropped to the forest floor.

“Papa?” she whispered.

No answer. With an eerie sense of being watched, she drew her feet beneath her, turning to scan the area while awkwardly stringing her bow.

“I mean you no harm.” A whiny sort of voice reached her ears. “You should keep your bow strung and dry if you hope to protect yourself with it.”

“Who are you? Where are you?” she asked, drawing an arrow from her quiver.

“Nearly at your feet. Kindly do not kill me. I’m here to offer help.”

13

GUIDANCE AND CHOICES

Slight movement revealed the speaker—a large red fox. Lenka’s friendship with a tree and conversation with a bird had prepared her well; she scarcely batted an eye. “Are you friend or foe?” she asked, nocking her arrow while pointing it at the ground.

“Neither. I would be your guide.”

Lenka immediately remembered the bird’s promise:Wisdom and guidance will find you.But . . . guidance from a fox?

“Guide to what?” she asked.

“To success. Do you intend to break the curse over Wroclaw?”

“What curse?”

The fox’s cool yellow eyes held her gaze. “You don’t know?”

“Why should I trust anything you say?”

“You should trust me because I am adversely affected by this curse and highly motivated to assist anyone attempting to break it. I can take you to the golden bird. In return, when the curse is broken, will you grant me a boon?”

“A what?” Lenka asked.

Did that animal just roll his eyes at me?

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