William Calhoun and the Black Feather. Book I. Aik Iskandaryan

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      Nymus said by his side:

      «Here we are!»

      «Where are we, Nymus?» William asked.

      «We are at the Feather Nest! This is where wizards get their magic feathers! And if there is a place that has the biggest number of all kinds of birds, then this is it!» he pointed at the feathers under their feet.

      «And why is there nobody in here?»

      «This is the flight room, Master Calhoun! By the end of the day, when the Feather Nest closes down, birds are allowed in here to fly. I shall stay here to wait for you while you are inside,» he pointed at an unremarkable door on the far wall of the hall.

      No wonder William hadn’t noticed it at first.

      «But why should I go there alone?» William asked. He didn’t want to part with Nymus. He was used to the mailmage always being by his side, to them doing everything and going everywhere together.

      «Those are the rules, Master Calhoun,» Nymus replied. «No wizard may enter the Feather Nest accompanied by another person. This excludes mistakes in the choice the birds make.»

      «What choice? What are you talking about?»

      «You see, Master Calhoun, when a wizard enters the Feather Nest for the first time, one of the birds flies over and grants him a feather. Before coming here, wizards can only guess which bird will choose them.»

      «What happens next?» William asked, thinking that this procedure reminded him of a child’s game more and more.

      «After one of the birds comes down from its perch and grants its feather to a wizard, Mister Wellington takes the feather, examines it and explains how to treat that exact feather and which personality that feather has. Then he registers the feather in the Feather Tome and gives it to its new owner.»

      «Nymus, what am I supposed to do? No bird has granted me this feather. I’ve had it since my birth. Won’t I have any problems because of that?»

      «I think there should not be any problems!» Nymus replied. «The feather can obey only one wizard. If it obeys you, then it does not have any other owners beside you. Just tell Mister Wellington that you have come to register a magic feather and it is all in the envelope.»

      «Alright, Nymus! Then I’m off!» William breathed out and headed towards the door on the far wall of the hall.

      As he approached the door, he heard some sounds coming from inside. William opened the door and all but drowned in the cacophony of birds crying, whistling, warbling, singing, cawing, and chirping. He suddenly remembered the time he’d been to a zoo with Mrs. Hoggart and was deafened by the noise coming from the bird cage. But compared to this racket, that noise was silence. William sighed, driving the memories off, made a step, and the door closed behind his back all by itself.

      William made another step and looked around. This huge room seemed to be full of birds, from top to bottom. William had never seen so many birds in one place. Just then he made out a counter through this live wall of wings and feathers, which stood deeper into the room and resembled a giant nest. There was also another thing. Despite the floor being made of stone, there were full-scale trees, bushes, and flowers growing right through it, with a small swamp in one of the corners. William had no doubts it was real: there was a rotten smell coming from the small swamp, as well as frogs croaking. The birds were still flying chaotically around the room and those that stopped flying landed on almost any object in here: walls, the ceiling, windows, tree branches, and other places.

      Somehow making his way to the «nest’, William was surprised to find it empty. He decided that there was nobody in here apart from the birds and turned around to leave. But then a huge hawk appeared from nowhere and dashed right at him. William closed his eyes, but the hawk flew over his head with a cry and disappeared.

      When William opened his eyes, he was surprised to find a grey-haired old man behind the counter, with a sharp face and an eagle-like nose. His grey hair fell to his shoulders and his yellow eyes with black pupils, just like that of the eagle, stared right at William.

      «Welcome to the Feather Nest, young wizard!» he said in a shrill voice and then, suddenly irritated with the noise around there, made a deafening cry, much like an eagle. The noise instantly died out.

      The old man gave William an expectant look.

      «Good day, sir…» he greeted the man, looking into the face of this strange master of magic feathers with a bit of fear.

      «…Wellington. I’m at your service, young wizard! You have probably come here for a magic feather?»

      Wellington walked around the counter, came up to William and, taking his hand, started examining it, not unlike a tailor who examines a client’s figure.

      «Sir, Mister Wellington,» William hurried to move his hand away, «I’ve already got a magic feather.»

      Mister Wellington returned behind the counter at once.

      «Then why have you come here, young man?» he asked, puzzled.

      «I’d like to register my magic feather,» William replied.

      «To register?» Wellington stared at William’s face. «I can’t seem to remember you… When have you been here before?»

      «Never. I’ve never been here. And I’ve never been granted the feather.»

      «Oh?» Mister Wellington’s face looked even more puzzled. «Then, may I ask you how you have received it?»

      «I’ve had it since my childhood. For a long time, I had no idea what it was for. But then they told me, and I want to study at the Preparatory Course. And, as I understand, I need to register the feather to do that.»

      Mister Wellington was listening to him, as they say, with his mouth open, but he quickly overcame his shock and asked:

      «May I take a look at the feather?»

      William took the feather out of his pocket and placed it on Mister Wellington’s hand. Strangely enough, the feather didn’t mind. Mister Wellington gave it a long and thorough examination, turning it over in his hands, and then he stated:

      «White Raven!» He gave the feather another look. «A contourless atypical flyfeather. Quite unusual for a magic feather!»

      «Why is that?» William asked, genuinely interested.

      «Well, first of all, magic feathers usually appear in the steering part of the bird, that is, in the tail. And this feather…» at this point Mister Wellington gave the feather another intent look as if checking himself, «it is, no doubt, from the bird’s wing!»

      «Is it of any significance?» William asked.

      «No, no. But it’s a curious fact. So curious that I can’t personally remember a similar case,» Mister Wellington said. «Secondly, the fan part of the feather is quite fluffy, which means two things. First: this feather hasn’t been used for a long time or it’s very new. And second: the bird that used to carry it lived on the swamps. Black spots on the fan part of the feather are a proof СКАЧАТЬ