Nina Redfeather's Arc

Chapter 3 of 12

The burning bird waited on the rafters. Nina backed toward the door. Her boots found the top of the ladder that led down through the chicken legs to the snow. She wanted out. She wanted home. But the old woman rose in her wooden bucket and blocked the way, her oak staff crossed before the door like a bar. "Not yet," the old woman said. "You learned what the shadow wanted. That knowledge has a price. You knew this before you climbed my ladder." Nina's chest went tight. "I never agreed to pay anything." "You agreed when you entered." The old woman tapped the floor with her staff. Dust jumped. "The demand is simple. I take your most precious thing. Then you may go." Nina's hand went to her coat pocket. Inside was a small carved feather. Her grandmother had made it before she died. Nina carried it everywhere. She held it now through the cloth. It was the only thing she owned that mattered. "How do you know what it is?" Nina whispered. "I don't." The old woman smiled with her few teeth. "You do. And your hand just told me." Nina pulled the feather out. It sat cool and smooth in her palm. Above her, the bird shifted. Heat rolled down from the rafters. Nina looked from the carving to the burning wings and back. Two precious things. The witch wanted one. An idea came, sharp and cold. Nina lifted her chin. "You said the bird belongs to no one until its debt is paid. Its debt is to you. Take the bird. That's my most precious thing now. It's worth more than any carving." The old woman's smile fell. Her knuckles whitened on the staff. "The bird is bound to you. Only you can decide its fate. That is the rule. Even I cannot break it." "Then I decide," Nina said. "I keep the feather. I keep the bird. You get nothing." The hut groaned on its legs. The old woman leaned close. Her breath smelled of smoke. "You are clever. But cleverness has a cost too. If I take nothing, the debt stays open. It will follow you. The bird will hunger. Feed it wrong, and it burns everything you love." She stepped aside from the door. "Go, then. Carry your debt home." Nina did not wait. She shoved the feather back in her pocket and climbed down the ladder fast. Cold air hit her face. The bird burst from the doorway above and swept over the trees, trailing sparks across the snow. Nina stood in the clearing, breathing hard. She had kept her grandmother's feather. She had kept the bird. But the debt still hung on her, unpaid and alive. Now she had to get a creature of fire home without setting the whole forest ablaze.