Chapter 42: A Plea to the Queens
Mrs. Johnson, who had always appeared calm and collected, now looked utterly shaken, her face pale with fear. Her hands trembled at her sides, and her lips moved silently as if whispering a prayer. She couldn't bear to think about what might happen to the girls if they failed to restore their human forms. The thought of losing them was too terrifying to fully comprehend.
Mrs. Bristow, on the other hand, could no longer contain herself. She burst into loud, heart-wrenching sobs, her body trembling violently.
"I don't want to lose her... not yet," she wailed, the sound cutting through the heavy silence like a knife.
Desperation engulfed both families, and sorrow settled around them like a dark cloud, suffocating and inescapable.
Mr. Bristow struggled to hold his wife, his own face grim and strained with helplessness. Even the strongest among them were breaking.
Mrs. Clermont felt the weight of the moment too. Her heart ached as she watched the two small birds, so fragile and lost. But deep down, she believed this was just a setback — a painful, frightening one, but not the end. She couldn't imagine the Queens allowing the girls to suffer like this after everything they had been through.
Summoning her courage, Mrs. Clermont stepped forward and knelt before the two birds. She moved gently, reaching out to inspect their wings. The birds were startled at first, ruffling their feathers in alarm, but did not resist. Though they didn't seem to understand what was happening, they remained remarkably still, as if sensing the gravity of the moment.
Mrs. Clermont's mind raced, trying to remember any detail that could help. Then it struck her — Ariella's mark was on her right palm. That was a good place to start. She turned to Mrs. Bristow, who was still wailing uncontrollably.
"Do you know which palm has the mark on Ela?" she asked, her voice as soft and patient as she could manage.
But Mrs. Bristow, lost in grief, could not respond. Her sobs had taken over completely.
"It's on her left palm, I think," Mr. Bristow answered hoarsely, stepping in while trying to soothe his wife.
Though Mrs. Clermont knew the possibility of the birds still having the marks was slim, she decided to try anyway.
She took the birds' wings — one right, one left — and gently placed the two stones against them, clasping the wings tightly together.
The birds struggled against the pressure, their tiny bodies wriggling uncomfortably. Mrs. Clermont's heart twisted at the sight, but she held on.
"Please... please work," she whispered under her breath.
At the very moment when all hope seemed lost, something extraordinary happened.
Right before their eyes, a breathtaking glow of blue and white emerged from the birds' wings, swirling around them like mist touched by the stars.
Gasps of awe and disbelief filled the air. The light was warm, almost protective, and for a fleeting moment, sorrow lifted from their hearts.
Before they could even appreciate its full beauty, the ground beneath them shuddered and opened.
The families cried out in shock, but there was no pain — only a gentle pull as they were lowered slowly into the crevice below, as if the earth itself was carrying them tenderly.
They landed softly, surrounded by the familiar damp air and faint glow of the sacred crevice.
The birds still clutched the stones to their wings, looking almost dazed.
Quickly, Mrs. Clermont retrieved the stones, releasing their wings so they could move freely once again.
The two birds flapped weakly, perching themselves on the stone floor as if waiting for guidance.
The families stood still, unsure of what to do next. The last time they had come here, the Queens had appeared immediately.
But now… the Queens had said their time had come to an end. Would they come this time?
A heavy silence pressed down on them, broken only by the soft cooing of the birds.
Mrs. Johnson, summoning every ounce of strength left in her broken heart, stepped forward. Her voice trembled but rang out clearly through the cavern:
"My Queens, you chose the girls because they were capable of fighting for the village," she cried, her voice cracking with emotion.
"You promised to always be there whenever they needed you. The time has now come — your children need you! Please, come and save them!"
Tears streamed down her face, each one glinting in the faint light like tiny jewels. Her voice echoed off the stone walls, carrying her desperate plea into the unknown.
They stood there, waiting, hoping — clinging desperately to the tiny glimmer of hope they refused to let go of.