Sword Mountain by Nancy Yi Fan Read Free Book Online Page A

they were nearly beak to beak.
    â€œA true valley child,” Sigrid said. “Your feathers, not golden, not caramel, not mahogany, not coffee, not chocolate—just about jet black. A whole bathtub of gold cosmetic powder wouldn’t lighten that up.” Sigrid cackled.
    Dandelion tried to break away. “Fleydur is good to me because he is kind,” she protested.
    â€œIs he?” Sigrid took a sip of tea.
    The calm before the storm , Dandelion thought.
    â€œDo you know why Fleydur was exiled in the first place?” asked the queen. “A good, virtuous bird isn’t threatened with the sentence of death if he returns, for nothing.”
    Dandelion shook her head.
    â€œIt was for his music and his attitude. In the beginning, Fleydur was restless and secretive, sometimes slipping into the treasury, other times disappearing from Sword Mountain for hours at a time.”
    Sigrid banged her teacup on the table at the memory. “Who finally caught him fooling around with one of the kingdom’s most important treasures? Me. Then Morgan suspected Fleydur of stealing funds for the enemy, but I knew Fleydur was dabbling in music. When the court investigated where Fleydur sneaked off to, who decided to follow him? Me, with my courtier Simplicio. For the greater good of the mountain, I hardened my heart and went to spy on the stepson I had raised. It was I who presented the indisputable evidence that earned him his exile!”
    Dandelion saw a terrible mixture of pain and pride on Sigrid’s face.
    â€œWe caught him squawking ‘songs’ with coarse beggars. It was shameful! Yet when I listened to the words, I knew that the ideas swarming in his mind were more dangerous than the tunes themselves.” Sigrid pointed at Dandelion. “Now that you’re healed, I can tell he’s up to something again. That’s why I summoned you here. I know what he’s conspiring to do has to be bigger than getting the right to sing, but I cannot lay my talon on it.”
    â€œBut I barely see him, Your Majesty,” said Dandelion carefully.
    â€œYou silly child!” All vestiges of courtesy disappeared from Sigrid’s face. “Still backing Fleydur, are you? He’s sly enough to save you, so you are obliged to be grateful to him; he’s even slyer to bring you here, where everybird else loathes you, so you’ll stay loyal to him. Do you think he cares for you? He cut himself off from family values, long ago. But I,” she said, “I am a mother.” She set down her teacup with finality. “Let me know then if Fleydur acts strangely. Come to me, and for every report of Fleydur you give me, I will give you flight lessons.”
    At that moment Dandelion remembered a nugget of truth about Fleydur’s thoughtfulness that made her doubt the queen. “Fleydur wished me happy birthday. He sang me ‘Happy Birthday.’”
    Sigrid recoiled.
    â€œHe lies,” she whispered. “Ask him about when you’ll see your parents again. Watch him stall. Watch him lie.”
    The hummingbird opened the door for Dandelion.
    Dandelion discovered the physician several corridors away, chatting with a guard. “Wonderful day for you, isn’t it, Dandelion? Going to school and meeting the queen?” he said. “And the housekeeper brought new dresses for you, too, courtesy of the Castle of Sky; now won’t you like that?” He led her back toward her room.
    Dandelion said her thanks and followed. Deep in her thoughts, she didn’t notice when the physician left and she entered her sickroom.
    â€œDandelion? What’s wrong? How did your classes go?” Dandelion jumped as she saw that Fleydur himself was sitting in the room in the noon warmth, waiting. It was his first visit in several weeks now. A smile graced his face.
    â€œI don’t want to return to the tutor’s class,” said Dandelion. “I want to see my