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  Timmy and Brooke spluttered around as Trollay perched on the statue, cringing from the red bumps that still covered his body. Beside him, two pigeons alighted. One looked old, with wild red eyes and blotches of black, while the other was stocky and cross-eyed.

  “You!” Timmy said.

  “Me!” Trollay said.

  The pigeon to Trollay’s right pointed at Brooke and said, “It’s the shiny on her neck that did it, coo-coo!”

  Brooke stared, wondering if these terrifying pigeons were the same she had seen at her house when she had first transformed. Had they seen how it happened?

  “We came for the treasure,” Trollay said. But then he eyed Timmy. “And since you brought us a meal as well, we’ll go easy on you.” He raised his wing and the pigeons stood at attention. “Bigon, Nog, bring me that necklace. The mouse is yours.” He lowered his arm and the pigeons dive-bombed for Brooke and Timmy.

  Brooke jumped over Timmy and covered him with her wing. “Stop it! Leave us alone!”

  “Coo, coo,” the red eyed pigeon, Bigon, said. “Mouse on the menu?”

  “What’d he say?” Timmy asked in panic.

  “Run!” Brooke replied as she pushed him out of the water. He jumped over the stone edge as the stocky pigeon dove for him. Nog slammed into the edge and flopped to the ground.

  Brooke threw herself over and tried to fly, but her wet wings were still heavy and she was slow. Bigon grasped at Timmy’s back, lifting him into the air. But Brooke ran with all her might and slammed into the pigeon head first, knocking Timmy from his clutches. Timmy landed on the forest floor with a roll and scampered to a row of large bushes. A raindrop landed in his path and he dodged around it. Soon the rain was pounding everywhere, turning dirt to slippery puddles of mud. Brooke flew close behind Timmy, the immense shadow of Trollay closing in behind them.

  “You can’t escape me!” Trollay said. “CA-CAW! CA-CAW!”

  Trollay dived and the pigeons closed in. As they were about to reach her, Brooke followed Timmy to an opening in the bushes as he darted in, then reached back with his tiny white paw and pulled her in behind him. Trollay and the pigeons collided into each other behind them.

  The raven’s voice carried into the bushes, “Find them! Search every leaf and stem.”

  Brooke and Timmy were going as fast as they could through the dark tunnels of the bushes, but they heard the ruffling of leaves and huffing of Bigon and Nog in pursuit. Rain pounded like drums on the leaves above. They turned a corner and a branch caught Brooke’s wing. She spun, but vines grasped her legs and she tripped. Timmy raced back and helped her to her feet, his eyes bulging as the pigeons approached.

  “I can’t go on,” Brooke said, knowing it was hopeless.

  Timmy pulled her up and forward. “You have to!”

  Reluctant but not wanting to be left to the pigeons, she followed Timmy into a clearing where the rain had formed a large puddle. She stared in confusion as Timmy ran to the side and up a branch. The branch bent toward Brooke, and Timmy grabbed ahold of another nearby branch.

  “Grab it!” he shouted. “Come on!”

  She grabbed ahold of the first branch with her beak and Timmy let go of the second branch. The branch flung forward, then snapped back and whacked Bigon as he stepped into the clearing. He staggered back into Nog and they collapsed over each other, wings tangled. Brooke and Timmy flew through the air, arced, and tumbled toward a bed of jagged rocks. Timmy shrieked but Brooke flapped her wings, almost dry now, and grabbed Timmy’s arms with her claws. With all her might she flew, carrying Timmy away from the rocks and toward a tree.

  “Woo-hoo hooo!” Timmy shouted, arms spread. “I’m the king of the park!”

  But a strong gust of wind hit them and threw them off track. It circled around, taking control of them, and then it blew them higher up toward the ominous gray clouds. Brooke was fighting with everything she had, but it was just no use.

  “Don’t let go!” Timmy shouted, realizing their predicament.

  “I’m trying!” Brooke said above the howling of the wind.

  “Don’t ever let go!”

  The wind carried leaves and twigs past them. Ahead, another bird struggled against the wind. Brooke narrowed her eyes to see. With a shout of mixed joy and fear she shouted, “Roy!”

  Roy turned and in that moment lost control. The wind carried him straight for Brooke and Timmy and they collided, all three thrown in the wind. Brooke tumbled in the sky, the puddle-ridden ground circling below. Dark clouds flashed with lightning above. She called for her friends, especially worried about Timmy since he had no wings, but the wind drowned out her voice. Everything spiraled and her eyes grew heavy as the wind flung her through the sky. She felt herself falling, her wings weak, unable to move. Her surroundings grew black.

  “Mom…” escaped her lips before everything faded.

  Chapter 7: Lost

  Brooke’s head thudded and she felt the hard earth beneath her. A light breeze, left over from the storm, played with her feathers. The ground was wet beneath her, but she remained still, eyes closed. With a groan, she shook her head and pushed herself up with her wings. The pale sun glared down at her through the clouds and she squinted back, defiant. This couldn’t be happening. Where was she?

  Long blades of grass surrounded her, mud everywhere with twigs sticking out of the ground like little spears. Her entire body ached and her throat was dry. When had she last eaten or had something to drink? She stumbled to a nearby puddle and, realizing she had no other options, sipped from the water. Her little bird reflection stared back and she almost felt it was natural. Her bird-self was becoming the norm.

  A soft cough drew her attention to the other side of the puddle where Timmy lay, half-conscious.

  “Timmy, Timmy!” She hopped to him and lifted him up, glad to not be alone in this strange place. She fanned him with her wing and his eyes slowly opened. “Are you okay?”

  “Oh dear, oh dear.” He jumped up and spun around. “Do I have all my legs? My tail? My whiskers?”

  Brooke laughed at the sight of him running around in circles.

  The muffled voice of Roy came from nearby. “That you, Brooke? Come on, come help me! Over here!”

  They found him struggling with a worm, half of it in his beak, half in the ground.

  “Don-eat-me!” the worm said. “Don-eat-me!”

  “What’re you doing?” Brooke asked, appalled.

  “I’m getting us food,” Roy said with a beak full of worm. “Come on, grab it!”

  “You can’t expect me to eat that!”

  Timmy guffawed. “That makes two of us.”

  Roy’s beak dropped when he saw Timmy. The Worm escaped.

  “That mouse’s too big for lunch,” Roy said with a glance to Brooke.

  Timmy staggered back, aghast. “Pardon me?”

  Brooke held out a wing to stop Roy from coming close. “No no, this is my friend.”

  “Friends with a mouse?” Roy said, confused. “You’re a bird!”

  “Quite the friend you have, Brooke,” Timmy said as his stomach rumbled. “But now that he mentions food, I could go for a bite or three.”

  Brooke looked around for anything she could eat. “I’m starved.”

  “Well, I’m a mouse, so I’m not picky. I think you eat seeds, breads, worms. And as we established, some birds eat, well, mouses.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t let ‘em near you.” Brooke turned to see an immense house across the yard.

  Timmy noticed her look. “I... I try to stay away from humans as much as possible.”

  “I happen to like them, come on.”

  She took off for the house. Timmy glanced at Roy, who snapped at him, causing Timmy to flinch and then scamper after Brooke. Roy beamed at himself before following.

  Just outside the immense house, Brooke fluttered above the ground behind a giant abandoned shoe. Timmy crouched below while Roy flew over to join them.

  “Up there,” Roy said. �
��Look, bird feed!”

  “I don’t know,” Brooke said. “Dad always said not to take what isn’t yours.”

  “What do you think it’s there for?”

  “I guess.” She turned to Timmy. “But what about you?”

  “Maybe bring some down for me to try? I’ve never had bird feed.”

  “Yeah, sure. You’ll be okay?”

  He nodded and rubbed his belly. “I’m more worried about this little guy getting lonely.”

  She flew up and tried some feed, but it was disgusting.

  Roy glanced down at Timmy. “You’re really friends with him?”

  Brooke ignored the question and took another bite. She cringed. It smelled like cat food and tasted like stale granola. Brooke took another bite and grimaced as she chewed. She couldn’t stop, her belly was too empty. She noticed Roy staring at his feet.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  He shook his head.

  “Roy? What is it?”

  “I had a fight with my mom, that’s how I got lost. And the cold’s coming soon.”

  She looked around, past the fence and the trees. He was right, they were lost, and she didn’t recognize anything.

  Roy stared at his feet. He took a single seed in his beak and gulped it down.

  Brooke was starting to panic. She felt her little bird heart thudding hard against her chest. “I can’t be lost, what if I never make it back, if I’m stuck this way forever? What’re we gonna do?”

  “Fill our mouths,” Roy said. “Then find home before they all head south.”

  “You mean they’ll leave? They’ll leave you? Us?”

  “They were waiting until the young ones could fly, but they can’t wait any longer.” He shivered, perhaps from the thought or maybe from the cold. “We have to get to them.”

  Brooke glanced down over the edge of the feeder to Timmy below. “Timmy can help us figure it out, he’s smart.”

  “We’ll never make it with him tagging along.”

  She stared back, eyes wide. Where did this come from, his dislike for Timmy?

  “Something’s different about you,” Roy said, assessing her. “Where’s your shiny?”

  She looked down, but he was right—her necklace was gone!

  “But how?” She fell to her butt on the edge of the bird feeder, feeling hopelessness sweep over her. “The pigeons? This can’t be happening. Without my necklace…. Will I be stuck like this forever?”

  “What are you talking about? We’ll find you another.” He sat beside her. “Sure, maybe not as pretty as that one, that one was incredibly shiny, but still we—”

  “You don’t get it! I’m not some stupid bir….” She looked over to see a terrified look in his eyes. “What?”

  A loud creak sounded nearby and a shadow covered both of them. Then, before she knew what was happening, massive hands closed in on her and all went black.

  Chapter 8: The Great Escape

  Having no idea how much time had passed, Brooke shook herself awake. She was on her back, a blue sky with clouds above. Her vision cleared to reveal the sky was a painting on the roof of a birdcage. With a turn of her head, she saw through the windows that it was still night. She hopped to the cage bars and shook them with her wings.

  “Let me outta here!” She fluttered around and banged into the door. “Roy! Timmy!” She rattled the bars until she collapsed in the middle of the cage. “I just wanna be home.”

  A boy’s large face appeared beside the cage. His wide eyes spelled mischief, and he said, “Ah, the little birdie is sad.” He poked her with a straw. “Sing, birdie, sing!”

  She couldn’t fight it for long, the straw was sharp on its edges. She found herself swinging from the bird-swing and whistling just to get the boy to back off. The boy sat beside the cage, sipping a milkshake through the gap in his teeth. Brooke could see no way out of this, but made a note to never be friends with this boy if she became human again.

  The cat flap of the back door moved and Brooke’s whistling faltered for a split second. She started up again before the boy could notice, watching as the cat flap opened and Timmy entered cautiously, followed by Roy. She couldn’t believe it—they had come for her! The two scampered across the floor toward Brooke, stopping beside the couch. They looked up to see the boy in their way, the birdcage atop a bookshelf.

  Timmy turned to Roy with a whisper, “You’ll have to use that big mouth of yours to distract him while I get her out.”

  The boy didn’t seem to hear.

  “Me?” Roy asked. “No way!”

  He had forgotten to whisper and the boy turned, startled. Then the boy’s frown turned into a smile

  “Another birdy!” the boy said.

  Roy looked for Timmy, but there was no sign of the little mouse.

  The boy lumbered toward Roy, hands reaching. Roy took to the air, fleeing. He darted around the living room, the boy in pursuit.

  Timmy appeared from under the couch and clawed his way up it. With a leap, he reached the bookshelf, where a book leaned against a stone mouse. For a moment he paused to stare at the fake mouse.

  Brooke saw the boy about to grab Roy and yelled, “Timmy! Help Roy!”

  Timmy remembered himself and shoved the stone mouse aside, jumping out of the way as the book fell. He used the book and its angle to throw himself into the air so that he landed inches from the birdcage. Brooke ran to the bars and hugged him, eyes closed as she laughed. She had thought all hope was lost! She opened her eyes to see the boy had turned at the noise of the falling book. His narrowed eyes focused on them.

  The little latch squeaked and stuck as Timmy pulled, the boy drawing close. But Roy flew up and began to peck the back of the boy’s head. The boy swiped him aside and grabbed Timmy, then Roy swooshed around to open the door and free Brooke.

  “With me,” he said. “Attack the boy!”

  She leapt out and they flew as one, circling the boy and chirping loud, fluttering their wings in his face. The boy stumbled back, stepped on his own shoelace, and then dropped Timmy before turning to run.

  Timmy yelped, the ground coming up fast. Brooke and Roy each grabbed one of Timmy’s arms before he hit the floor. They lowered him down, and then they all paused for a breath.

  “You two worked… together,” Brooke said amid pants. “That was great!”

  “Yeah,” Timmy said, beaming. “Did you see us?”

  A sound came that none of them wanted to hear—a loud MEOW!

  They all turned slowly to see a giant cat, with sleek orange and white fur like a creamsicle. They shouted and took off in different directions. The cat seemed to be able to chase all three at once. She was everywhere!

  Brooke escaped behind a houseplant, but a moment later the cat pounced, knocked the plant over, and almost had her! Brooke flew to the ceiling, narrowly dodging a ceiling fan. The cat pounced, missed, and then turned to pursue Timmy. Brooke looked frantically for Roy, but saw Timmy in trouble.

  “RUN!” she shouted. “RUN!”

  Timmy dodged the cat’s first pounce and shouted back, “I KNOW! I KNOW!”

  Brooke dove to save Timmy, but Roy appeared right before her and she had to swerve to avoid him. The cat pounced again and landed with Timmy between her paws.

  “No!” Roy and Brooke called out together as the cat smiled wickedly at them.

  Out of nowhere, the cat began to laugh hysterically. It was a high-pitched, feminine laugh—not what Brooke had expected. The cat continued to laugh as it pointed at Brooke and Roy. Timmy ran to Brooke, taking advantage of the opportunity. They all turned to stare at the cat in confusion.

  “That was GRRREAT!” the cat said. “Can we do it again? Can we?”

  Timmy was flabbergasted. “Excuse me?”

  The cat jumped back and forth from her left to her right legs. “Can-we-can-we-can-we?”

  “Can you chase us around again and nearly give me a heart attack?” Timmy raised a paw in a scolding fashion. “No madam, you may not!�
��

  “Awww, shucks. No one ever lets me have fun.” The cat spun around and lay down, pouting.

  Brooke looked to Roy, who shrugged. Timmy folded his arms and looked away with a raised nose.

  Brooke stepped forward with caution. “Excuse me, Mrs. Cat...?”

  “My boy calls me Creamsicle.”

  “Well, Mrs. Creamsicle, you scared us.”

  Roy fluttered his wings and glanced at the window. “This cat has lost her head, let’s get outta here!”

  Creamsicle pounced to the other side of Roy and flicked out a long claw with the pointy end at Roy’s throat. “If I wanted you dead, you’d have no head.”

  Roy gulped, looking to Brooke for help.

  “See, like that!” Brooke said. “You shouldn’t toy with others.”

  Again, Creamsicle cracked up in laughter. “You all are hilarious! Won’t you stay?”

  “Mrs. Creamsicle….” Brooke looked down at her feathers and the spot where her necklace should have been. She looked up with large, sad eyes, the kind she had always used on her dad.

  “Oh, fine. Come on, before my boy comes back.” Creamsicle turned, as if insulted, and held the cat-flap door open for them.

  Brooke took a moment, staring out through the flap. “We don’t even know where we are.”

  Timmy looked to Creamsicle and smiled. “Maybe you can show us the way?”

  Creamsicle pulled back, whiskers twitching. “Out there? Heavens no! I don’t go out there.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why not? Haven’t you seen what’s out there! Big dogs, loud noises, a bright ball of fire in the sky…. No thanks.”

  Roy hopped forward in disbelief. “Wait, seriously, you’re scared? Oh this is rich!”

  “I never said that, I just… don’t want to. Anyway, I think it’s time you were leaving.”

  “He didn’t mean it, right, Roy?” Brooke said. “Apologize.”

  Creamsicle turned her head away, nose raised. “No need, just be on your way. Go on now.”

  Brooke hugged the cat’s leg with her wings and then hopped up to the doorway. “Thanks again Mrs. Creamsicle. And if you ever come out, please visit anytime.”

 

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