Always Be Appreciative of Opposable Thumbs

Chapter Forty-Two: Feathers and Fairy Dust

 Fawkes tossed Willow into an iron cage and slammed the door shut. She watched helplessly as he turned a key in the large lock and then slipped it into his pocket. He glanced up at her with his one black eye and gave a cold grin.

"You'd best hope that you turn into a goose," he said. "His Majesty doesn't much like being taken for a fool."

Swallowing hard, Willow asked, "What will he do with me if I don't?"

"Let's just say he has a separate room for those who try to pull the wool over his eyes."

The murderous glint in his eye was enough to steal her breath, even knowing that she wasn't lying about her condition. Fawkes pulled on a heavy chain, and the cage began to rise in the air. She grabbed hold of the sides to steady herself and watched as the ground got further and further away.

"Don't go anywhere, now," he said, waving at her from down below.

Willow's eyes followed him as he walked back out of the room, and she flinched when the door closed with a loud bang. Letting out a long breath, she dared to survey her surroundings.

It was dark and dank and cold. The stone walls were bare save for the few wooden shelves that held jars filled with strange liquids—some that glowed, some that sparkled, and one that appeared to be on fire. And there were cages. Not just hanging cages like she was in, but also large ones on the ground that housed beasts such as chimeras and basilisks, all of whom were either muzzled or blindfolded or chained. A glass tank of cloudy water was in the corner, and though it was hard to tell, Willow could have sworn she saw a hand press up against the glass and a swish of a tail. Not too far from the tank was another glass enclosure, this one containing small trees and plants and insects.

Teodric surely did have quite the collection.

Pulling her knees up to her chest, Willow made herself as small as possible. As far as she knew, she would still change into a goose at some point. What would happen then? Would she be trapped here in this dungeon until the day she died? What about her friends? What about their wishes?

What about Hugo?

Her chest heaved as she attempted to keep herself from crying, but it was a losing battle. Burying her face in her knees, she let the tears stream silently down her cheeks.

Why had she done this? Why had she been so foolish as to trust her sisters? They hated her. That was clear now. No matter how much she tried to make it up to them, she had hurt them too deeply to ever be forgiven.

Maybe she deserved to be in this cage. Maybe her friends were better off without her.

Maybe Hugo was better off without her.

A sob escaped her lips, and that only led to more sobs and more tears. Her wails echoed off the stone walls and surrounded her until they were all she could hear.

But then a voice broke through the din.

You are giving me a headache, you inbred wench.

Stopping mid-sob, Willow looked up and searched for the source of the voice. "Pardon me?"

It's bad enough I'm trapped in this tacky cage. Must I listen to your wailing as well?

That voice. She knew that voice.

The cage tilted slightly as she moved to the edge, but she held onto the bars and strained her neck to search for the familiar voice. "Lisette? Lisette, is that you?"

How do you know my name?

And then she saw her. On the other side of the room, in a cage similar to her own, was a white goose almost identical to her eleven sisters. "Lisette! It is you! Oh, thank goodness you're all right!"