The Challenge
If you would like to support this free ebook, consider sponsoring a chapter. Thank you!
Sponsor the next chapter for $10
Previous chapters:
Raven was grumpy the next morning, but thankfully not grumpy enough to commit murder. Philothea woke to her new mentor thrusting a basket in her face and ordering her to go outside and collect eggs. Even though Philothea wasn’t worried about Raven killing her, she did find her very intimidating and did not hesitate to hop up and follow orders.
When she stepped out of the cottage door, she stopped, blinking at the unexpected landscape before her. Raven’s house stood on the bank of a massive lake. Philothea turned around and looked at the cottage. She was quite sure it was the one she had seen across the open field the day before. Why hadn’t she listened to Pouli? She spent a long minute rebuking herself in her mind. How could she be so foolish? Why hadn’t she at least proceeded slowly instead of charging forward?
She sighed and then started looking around for a chicken coop. It was tucked away behind the cottage. Philothea collected all the eggs she could find and then started back. The cottage was very near the shore, meaning that to get back in, Philothea had to pass a procession of hissing geese.
“Shoo!” she shouted at them, waving her arms.
The geese were not frightened, but luckily, they also weren’t interested in a full assault. They moved past Philothea, with each goose stopping in turn to hiss.
“Rude geese!” came Pouli’s voice. Philothea looked around, expecting to see him somewhere, but instead saw Fae perched on a branch beside the door. The raven continued using Pouli’s voice, “I am the bird supreme! I am a big bird! A handsome bird. I am a good boy.”
“That’s very good, Fae,” Philothea giggled. “You sound just like him!”
“Ho, ho, ho,” Fae laughed proudly. “I’m such a funny girl.”
When Philothea entered the house a moment later, Zoe was arguing with Raven.
“Look, I know I’m just a human, but there must be something I can give you in return,” Zoe was saying.
“I like you better this way,” Raven shrugged. “Besides, Phil was the one who turned you into a bird. I think it’s only fair that she turns you back.”
“Phil?” Philothea questioned.
“Look, if I called you Philothea every time I wanted to address you, I’d die of old age before we ever finished a conversation.”
“I like it,” Zoe stated. “I sort of wish I’d thought of it.”
In response to the look of horror that washed over Philothea’s face, Raven said, “Is Philly better?”
“Um, how about Thea?” Philothea blurted.
“Fine, Thea,” Raven shrugged.
“I’m still going to call you Phil,” Zoe stated.
“You call me Phil, and you’ll be a bird for the rest of your life,” Philothea threatened.
Raven grinned at Philothea. “You know something? I think I hate you less than most people.”
Philothea decided to take that as a compliment. “Thank you,” she smiled.
She worked with Raven to make eggs and toast. They gave the birds breadcrumbs, berries, and fishscraps. (Philothea doubted Zoe was going to touch the fishscraps but served them anyway.)
“Butter the toast,” Raven ordered Philothea, as they all took their places around the table.
Philothea looked around. “Where do you keep the butter?”
“I don’t have any.” Raven was regarding Philothea keenly, as she rested her chin on her laced fingers. “What are you going to do about it?”
Philothea furrowed her brow. “Do you, um, have cream?”
Raven looked at Philothea as if she had seriously suggested the sky was purple.
“I think she wants you to magic some butter onto the bread,” Zoe offered helpfully.
Raven rolled her eyes and gave an irritated little sigh. “Thank you, Zoe.”
“Oh,” Philothea realized. She pulled the ring out of her pocket and placed it on her finger. Raven jolted a little as if she could suddenly sense the power flowing into Philothea. She scrunched her brow, and taking Philothea’s hand, studied the ring thoughtfully.
“How interesting,” she mumbled.
“What?” Philothea giggled.
“I suppose it makes sense,” Raven mumbled. “Genius really.”
“What?” Zoe asked.
“Well, I can’t be sure,” Raven commented. “But if I had to guess, your mother suppressed your powers when you were still a helpless baby. Then left you this seal as a means of unlocking them.”
Philothea raised her eyebrows. “Why?”
Raven rolled her eyes. “So that news of a glowing baby wouldn’t get back to Zeno, that’s why.”
“Wait, she can glow?” Zoe asked hopefully.
Raven shrugged. “Probably. Though at the moment I am more interested in her ability to butter bread.”
She shot her student a pointed look.
Philothea turned her attention to the neat stack of sliced bread on the plate in the center of the table, then blushed. She always felt silly when she tried to do magic and dreaded the idea of making an attempt in front of an expert.
“I don’t know how,” Philothea confessed.
“Just try something,” Raven insisted. “Whatever comes to mind.”
“When I try it usually doesn’t work.”
“That’s alright,” Raven shrugged. “Just try anyway.”
Philothea’s face turned bright red, she looked down at the table.
“It’s embarrassing,” she mumbled.
“You know what else is embarrassing?” Raven asked flatly. “Getting murdered by Zeno. Which is exactly what’s going to happen to you if you don’t let me help you.”
Philothea felt her cheeks get hot. She looked at the bread again, wishing she hadn’t said anything. Thrusting a commanding finger at it, she exclaimed, “butter yourself!”
Raven burst out laughing, which of course made both Pouli and Fae laugh too.
Philothea giggled instinctively, but she wasn’t even slightly amused. What she wanted, was to disappear.
“You’re a funny girl,” Fae observed.
“You’re a funny girl,” Pouli added, from the rafters. He seemed to make a point of always perching at least a little higher up than Fae. Philothea thought he probably didn’t want to accept the fact that she was four times his height.
“Ho, ho, ho, I am a funny girl,” Fae agreed.
“You think that’s how magic works?” Raven grinned.
“I don’t know!” Philothea exclaimed. “I don’t know anything about magic!”
Raven’s mocking grin vanished, but a hint of amusement still glimmered in her eyes.
“Pick up your cup,” she ordered.
Philothea did so.
“How did you do that?” Raven asked.
“What?” Philothea was confused. “I…don’t know. I just did it.”
“Exactly,” Raven answered.
“Exactly,” Fae mimicked.
“I don’t understand.” Philothea was feeling completely overwhelmed.
“If you want your cup, you don’t point to it and say, ‘come here, cup!’ You just reach out and take it.”
“That is not remotely the same thing,” Zoe interjected, the feathers on her head puffing up. “No one teaches you how to use your arms, you just know how …by instinct or something.”
“No, you don’t ‘just know’” Raven corrected. “Have you ever watched a little baby trying to grab things? They have to spend months flailing their arms around, hitting themselves in the face, and knocking things over, before they can even hope to be successful.”
She turned her gaze from Zoe, back to Philothea.
“You, little one, are like a child who’s had her arms restrained since birth. You’re undeveloped, and it’s going to take a lot of work to correct that. It will be hard, and you’re going to feel ridiculous a lot of the time.”
Philothea felt a knot in her stomach. Raven picked up her cup and smiled. It wasn’t a mocking smile this time, it was a daring smile. She was inviting Philothea to a challenge.
“But if you endure the humiliation, one day magic will be so easy you’ll do it without a second thought.” She set the cup down. “So what will it be? Would you rather keep your ego intact and die by Zeno’s hand? Or will you let me shatter your pride so you can be truly great?”
Philothea wasn’t sure she wanted to be “truly great”. What she did want was to keep the people she loved safe. She thought of Keeper Ruth and the girls back at the temple. She thought of Zoe, and of her own parents. If there was a chance her powers could protect them, she had to try.
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” she replied.
“You’re such a sweet girl,” Fae observed. “Ho, ho, ho, so sweet.”
Philothea took a slice of bread and looked at it. Raven helpfully declined to say anything. She was just watching Philothea to see what she would do.
Philothea did think that toast with butter was preferable to toast without butter. But how was she supposed to create butter from nothing? The more she imagined the fatty-melty comforting substance the more she craved it. Especially after days of eating nothing but blackberries and stale bread.
Philothea let out a little gasp of alarm and dropped the bread when she felt something warm and oily running over her fingertips. The slice that had fallen to the table was drenched with enough melted butter to spread over two loaves.
“You really like butter, don’t you?” Raven observed.
“Well, yes, but… that’s a lot.” Philothea marveled.
Raven laughed. “You overdid it a little, but it was only a first try. Why don’t you let me handle the rest?”
Philothea was happy to do so.
“I’ll eat that piece,” Zoe offered, hopping toward the one Philothea dropped.
“No, you won’t,” Raven answered, pulling it out of her reach. “You’re a bird now. No milk.”
“What!” Zoe exclaimed, puffing up so much she was almost completely round. “I can’t have butter?”
“Nothing made from milk,” Raven stated. “You’ll get sick.”
“Then turn. me. back!”
“We’ll let Thea try after breakfast,” Raven replied. “Once we’ve packed and locked up the house.”
“Where are we going?” Philothea asked.
“Wherever you were going when you found me,” Raven answered. “I’d have to be an idiot to let you sit around in one place while Zeno is hunting you.” She polished off a piece of toast, then added, “And I’d hate to have you here if my relations show up to ask me where I’ve been, and what I’ve been doing, and why I’m not married yet.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why they keep coming back. I always give them the same answers: ‘I’ve been here, avoiding you, and that’s none of your business.’”
That comment brought a dull ache to Philothea’s heart. She was thinking of her sisters back at the temple. They made it their business to know everything about each other. They’d probably have a million questions when she came back… She wrung her hands. If she came back. She hoped to the very depths of her being that they were alright.
The Fables of Para Sympan 