Book One The Puzzle Box
Tom bent over his desk, and fiddled with a pencil. He drew a scratchy doodle of a cat in the corner of a clean sheet of paper. A folder lay open, displaying a long list of maths questions. With the compass, he drew a circle. He stared at the ceiling, then looked back down and drew a smiley face. He glanced up at the clock on the wall, and then scratched his head. His fingers tapped on the desk. Then he removed his glasses and cleaned them with his shirt.
“I know what I can do,” he said. He jumped up from his seat and ran from the room. Tom could be very studious for a thirteen-year-old. I’ve seen him work for hours, his glasses skewed and smudged with a few days of dirt. When he’s like that, he doesn’t even notice his little sister, Beatrice, prancing about and playing loud music. His younger brother, James, could build Legos right by his feet, and Tom wouldn’t even look up. Today was different, because he had remembered something important.
Maybe I should explain to you, that the children are Grundles. That means they have the good fortune to be half-fairy. Deep in the forest that borders their house is an ancient oak tree and within that tree lives their great-grandmother, Alestine Lily, along with an entire clan of fairies. Alestine took on human form, when she fell in love with a man, and some of her belongings remained in the human world, when she returned to the fairy ways. Her trinkets and magical items were stored in boxes in the attic and Tom had found something special a few days before.
His mother forbid him to go in the attic, and once discovered him in mid-search. But, before he closed the lid to the box, his fingers slid over an item, hidden inside the mildewed container: a small, and intricately carved, wooden box. A puzzle box.
Tom meant to have it today. It took him a few nervous minutes to locate the correct container. He stopped every few seconds and listened for his mother. If found, she’d be very cross, and he didn’t want to think about the punishments she would think up. He wiped the sweat from his forehead; the warm air in the attic clung to his skin. He removed the lid and … nestled in-between an old newspaper and a few mouldy books lay the puzzle box.
He picked it up with both hands and shook it gently. Inside, he could hear something roll around. He popped his prize in his pocket and ran back to his bedroom.
He cleared his desk, by sweeping his homework onto the floor. He put his lamp on, and directed the light onto the middle of his desk. Before starting, he looked back to make sure his door was closed, and then took the box out of his pocket.
Shadows played in the carvings on the box; pictures of fairy folk dancing amongst trees and flowers adorned the sides.
Tom ran a finger over the surface to find the edge of the lid. He pushed any carving that stood out, in case it was a hidden trigger to open the box. His pursed his lips as he pressed everywhere else in his search for a secret button. Frustrated, he slammed the box down on his desk and sat back. It appeared to have no seam and no lid to prise open. The secret inside rattled to a standstill as Tom pondered what to do next.
Lunging forward, he grabbed the puzzle box firmly in both hands and now tried to force it open. He twisted and he pulled until his hands ached and, having failed, he lobbed it at the desk.
“Open! Why don’t you open?” he shouted at it. “Open up!”
He collapsed back into his chair and twiddled his thumbs as he thought. When inspiration hit, Tom sat up.
“Huh hum.”
He cleared his throat.
“Open, sesame,” he said with authority. The box sat still. Tom thought it was mocking him and tried again.
“Open, please,” he requested politely. The box continued to sit peacefully on the desk. Tom considered the problem, tapping a rhythm on the desk with his fingertips. If words were necessary to open it, what would they be?
“Oh!” he exclaimed. “They wouldn’t be English, they’d be in fairy language.”
Now it just so happened, that Tom had become friends with an old fairy named Cobweb, and Cobweb was teaching him how to speak in fairy.
Tom racked his brains for the right words.
“Aparr ab dorus?” he said, and watched the box. It felt as if it was staring back at him, and he could swear it was smiling.
“Hang on, I got the words wrong.”
He cleared his throat again.
“Jannoo toshiaght er.”
He bent down and rested his chin on the desk, waiting … when suddenly the box made a slight clicking noise and began to jolt about in awkward bursts. Tom quickly sat back. The jumping ceased and instead, it began to spin around. It span faster and faster until it became a blurry shape. There were more clicking noises, but one loud, final pop.
A line appeared right through the middle and split the box in two. The bottom section stopped dead, while the top section continued to spin, and slowly rose up from the base. It span faster and faster.
Tom felt quite dizzy as his eyes tried to follow the movement, but after a few seconds, which to him felt like minutes, the lid began to slow down, glided through the air, and came to rest on the base.
“Wow,” Tom whispered. He removed his glasses and, after a quick clean, put them on again. He took a deep breath, held it in his lungs, carefully removed the lid and placed it next to the box. He peered inside….
A tiny little orb of golden light nestled at the bottom. As he watched it, it rose up in the air, glowing in pulses, until it was even with his eyes. It hovered in the air as Tom marvelled at it. He dreamt about holding it in his hands, like a firefly, so he could examine it properly, when - as he stared - it started to sway hypnotically back and forth and then, without notice rushed at his face.
“Uggg!” Tom gurgled, as it shot into his mouth and, to add to the shock, he swallowed involuntarily. The orb went down like a hot pill.
“Uh… oh.”
He put his hand on his tummy. His skin felt like it was warming up. He put a hand under his t-shirt and pulled it back – his skin was hot to the touch.
“Oh, no! What’s going on?”
The warmth radiated from his tummy, his middle felt boiling hot. He searched the room for something that could help, thought about calling out, but he knew his mother would be cross that he had been in the attic. The heat flowed down his arms and legs, until his skin glowed a bright red. The fever increased until his body got unbearably hot and Tom was about to run to the bathroom to jump under a cold shower, when his body started to cool down. He relaxed a little as a cooling sensation spread over his body.
While the fever dispersed, a robin landed on the sill outside the bedroom window. A breeze ruffled his feathers. The bird puffed his magnificent red chest, hopped through the open window, chirped, and flew off again.
“That was strange,” Tom said aloud. He forgot, momentarily, about the puzzle box and the mysterious, glowing orb, because a new sensation crawled over his body. His skin prickled and he rubbed it to try and stop it.
“What now?” he cried as he looked at his arm. The skin had begun to bubble and move and Tom watched in horror as his fingers started to lengthen and what looked like feathers began to sprout.
“Help!” he yelped. For a moment, he had a curious sensation that the room was growing. He fell off the chair and standing beside it, his clothes felt baggy, the neck of his t-shirt slipped down his body and landed in a pile at his feet. His trousers fell down next … revealing shrunken, skinny, brown legs.
He was so small that he fit inside his shoe now. He tried to jump out of it, then he heard a loud flapping noise and saw that his arms had transformed into wings. He flapped them hard and balanced on the edge of his shoe. When his skin stopped itching and the room stopped growing, Tom examined his body. He had completely changed shape! He could see claws, bony legs and a round, red-feathered tummy.
Tom had turned into a bird – a robin!
“What am I going to do now?” he tried to say, but his words came out in bird song.
“Thank goodness it’s summertime,” he thought.
He stretched his new wings and flew towards the open window. He flew clumsily out of the house and across the woods to the Great Oak. When he reached the tree, he flew around it a few times, trying to call a fairy to come out, but he could only tweet and twitter. He flew and flew in circles, not quite sure how to land. His new wings already felt somewhat tired and he didn’t want to get stuck on the ground.
In the end, Tom crash landed on a branch. He rolled along in a feathery bundle and came to rest, upside down, against the trunk. He hopped back onto his tiny feet and furiously started to peck at the wood.
Almost instantly, one of the tree’s fairy guards appeared beside him.
“Oh, wonderful! Thanks goodness you’re here. Meeks, you’ve got to help me,” Tom chirped.
The fairy called Meeks, adjusted his uniform, and looked at the bird with a furrowed brow.
“Are you trying to tell me something, little fellow?” Meeks asked and reached out to tousle Tom’s feathers.
“I want to see Verinon,” Tom squawked, frantically flapping his wings. “He’s sure to know what to do.”
Verinon was leader of the High Council and one of the oldest and wisest fairies in the clan. If anyone knew how to cure him, it would be Verinon.
“Hey, I recognised a tweet there, did you say ‘Verinon’?” Meeks wanted to know.
Tom hopped up and down, excitedly bobbing his head.
“Okay, okay, if you can behave yourself, I’ll take you to him,” said Meeks.
The boy calmed himself and stood on the branch, puffing out his fabulous, red chest feathers. Meeks uttered a few magic words and they suddenly were on the central, winding staircase inside the Great Oak Tree.
“Come on, Mr Robin,” Meeks said. He walked away and up the stairs. Tom found them difficult to climb, but after a little experimentation, he found he could hop up the long spiral staircase, which ended at a set of large carved doors.
“Verinon’s office.” Meeks whispered. He rapped on the door, stood back and waited.
“Yes?” a voice questioned from the other side.
“I have a Mr. Robin here to see you. He mentioned your name and I thought it best to bring him. He seems quite upset.”
There was a slight pause and then both doors flew open. There stood Verinon, with a curious expression on his face. Verinon was very old and had white hair and a white beard that was so long it rested on his toes.
“Hello, Mr Robin. How can I help?” Verinon asked as he guided Tom inside his room. It was a beautiful room, round, as were all the rooms in the Great Oak, with carvings covering every wall. They were magical carvings that grew and adjusted, as they recorded all fairy history right as it happened.
“Please, help me, Verinon,” Tom sang. “I hope you can understand me. I can’t speak anymore.”
“Of course you can! It’s just that you speak in bird now.” Verinon stood next to him, stroking his beard. “Who are you then? Do I know you?”
“I’m Tom!” screeched the robin. He jumped up and down, and flapped his wings. A chair fell over with a great clatter. “I opened a box of my great-grandmother’s. It was a puzzle box and it couldn’t be opened until I spoke the words ‘Open up’ in fairy language. It had a beautiful glowing orb of light inside and I thought it was fantastic, until it flew itself down into my tummy! Then, before I knew it, I was a bird,” Tom sang. “Can you make me human again?”
Verinon picked up the chair and sat down.
“Curious,” he said. “Most curious.” He smiled up at Tom. “You’ve been blessed my boy and, by the way, may I say how nice it is to see you.”
“Blessed?” tweeted Tom.
“Of course! The glowing orb is both a blessing and a privilege. It chooses whom it gives itself to and only worthy souls can receive it’s magic.”
“What is it?” Tom chirruped.
“It’s an ancient fairy gift – it gives the holder the ability to take on the form of any animal. You are most fortunate and lucky, my boy!”
Verinon stood up and walked around the bird, examining it carefully.
“I must say you have done a good job with your first attempt. Most accurate.” Verinon laughed. “I suppose that now, you want to know how to change back?”
Tom bobbed his head and tried not to cry. This adventure was becoming a bit much for him.
Verinon took him outside and said, “Think about yourself as human - as Tom.”
The bird closed his black, beady eyes and thought about the last time he’d looked in his mirror. His skin began to crawl again, his limbs stretched and lengthened, they filled out with heavy bones. He had the curious feeling that the world was shrinking.
Tom opened his eyes and looked down. His first feeling was one of immense relief, but then he realised he was in the middle of the woods … with no clothes on! He spotted a fallen branch, and grabbed it. He held it over his body in an attempt to cover up.
“How did I do that?” he asked.
“You think it, you will take the form,” answered Verinon. “ Think of your cat Plum.”
Tom pictured Plum in his mind…
The prickly sensation was milder this time. The branch he held fell to the ground. He held a hand up, only to see a white and black spotted paw.
“Will I always be able to do this?” Tom mewed.
“As long as the Blessing sees you fit. Could be all your life,” Verinon answered. He stroked his long beard. “Now, run home and get some clothes on.”
And that is the story of how Tom got the Blessing of Animal Forms, a Blessing that could do so much good and, at the same time, be the cause of much mischief!
© 2006 Lisa C. Hinsley
