Moonfall | Book Two

CHAPTER 8

Michael stormed through the castle on a mission: to find his mother. To avoid questions that would undoubtedly be asked by anybody he crossed paths with, he held the bird to his left side and used the left side of his open coat to conceal it. He only hoped the tiny creature did not chirp.

It happened to be one of those rare days where he was able to freely roam the castle without being shadowed by Lucas, but that did not mean he was entirely free from other observing eyes.

He may not have known the first thing about mending a broken wing—was not entirely sure his mother knew what to do either—but the moment he decided to save it, she was the only person that came to mind. Besides, the visit would also present an opportunity he had not been able to find since his return from the Woodlands—filling her in with his plans for the fairy, and enlisting her help.

He turned down the dimly lit corridor that led to his mother's chambers and stopped once he reached her door. He knocked twice. From inside, he heard footsteps approaching, and seconds later, the door opened wide. But instead of coming face to face with his mother, he was instead met by his Aunt Emilia.

She smiled when their eyes met, and Michael felt compelled to offer her one in return. It was not that he was unhappy to see her, but the fact that her presence would make it difficult for him to speak openly with his mother.

"Michael, 'tis always a pleasure to see you."

"And you, Aunt Emilia."

He scanned the room behind her, and once he confirmed his mother was absent he settled his gaze back on his aunt. "Has my mother gone somewhere?"

"She stepped out for a moment and should be back shortly. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Before Michael could respond, the bird chirped. Loudly. He looked down, pulled back his coat to reveal it, and had to refrain from smiling because—as crazy as it sounded—he was certain that chirp was a loud and resounding 'no'.

"Oh my, who is this little creature?"

He looked up at his aunt. "I found it outside. I do not suppose you know how to mend a broken wing, do you?"

"I cannot say that I do."

She grabbed Michael's arm and gently pulled him inside the brightly lit room before closing the door behind him. He was ushered over to his mother's bed, where he took a seat at the foot. His aunt then turned and walked over to a wardrobe and returned with a small cloth in hand.

"Perhaps I can fetch someone to take it off your hands." She tried to dab at the bird's wet feathers, but it only pulled away from her. "Or ask around the castle—"

"No," he interjected. "That is quite alright, Aunt Emilia."

If word were to reach his father that he was wasting time nursing a bird back to health instead of focusing on fulfilling his duties, Michael could only imagine the lecture he would receive.

"I will figure it out."

"Figure what out?"

Both Michael and his aunt turned their heads towards the door at the sound of his mother's voice. She was pulling down the hood of her black cloak as she stared back at them.

"Michael found a bird, and the poor thing has a broken wing."

His mother glanced down at the bird still in his hand. "How terrible."

When she looked back up at him, one look was all he had to give for her to know why he had come. Enough for her to not waste any more time and act accordingly.