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Callette beat her wings against the air, pushing forward with all her might, going faster and faster. She just wanted to get away, as fast as possible. She flew over woods and valleys and rivers, seeing nothing, concentrating everything she had into the flight.
Hours later, her strength ran out, and she crash-landed into a small valley with a river trickling through it. She had no idea where she was, but she didn’t care.
The moment she hit the ground, she broke. Huge sobs racked through her breast, pushing their way through her throat and out her beak. The noise she made was horrid, half scream half cry, full of all the frustration she had been keeping in for the last few months.
It had all started when Angelo was born. It wasn’t that Callette disliked her little brother – quite the opposite, she though he was incredibly cute, and found it satisfying that his wings were so much like hers. It was just that from the moment he was born, he took all Derk and Mara’s care and attention. Together with putting the world back together, her parents didn’t have any time for their other children any more.
But even that wouldn’t have affected her much, if her parents didn’t expect her to do all the things they couldn’t now. Callette didn’t want attention; she was already a young person now, and rather liked being on her own. But now that Shona had left, she was also the oldest, the ‘big sister’, so she was expected to take care of everyone else. And she hated that.
She hated the way Don always came to her for help because he didn’t know how to do something. She hated the way Blade always came to her to complain. She hated the way Elda was forever going on about something, never shutting up, never giving her a moment of peace. But most of all she hated the long, loud fights she had with Kit. Her brother was simply infuriating. And he always started the fights, picking on her, whining, or just being mean. It was as if he had nothing better to do than annoy her!
For months she had tried to keep calm and bear it, but the latest fight had been too much. Kit had come into the kitchen looking moody, and had demanded food. Patiently, as usual, she’d told him what she was going to make and when it would be finished. Kit, of course, hadn’t been happy with what she had planned, and had asked – no, ordered – something else instead. When she’d told him it was too late to change the plan, they had started arguing. The situation had gotten even worse when Blade and Don had come in, both almost as moody as Kit and just as hungry. They, too, had different ideas about what she should make, and none of them listened to the others - they just shouted at her. Did they think she was their slave?
Callette let out another great sob at this thought. They certainly treated her like one!
The last straw had been when Elda had come bobbing into the kitchen, screeching excitedly that wasn’t Angelo cute, and what were they having for dinner, because she didn’t feel like raw. It didn’t help that Kit had chosen that moment to say something hurtful about her art, and had then gone on to criticize her gizmos. That had ended it. How dare he? No-one criticised her gizmos!
So Callette had burst, shouting, screaming at all of them. But that hadn't been enough. She had felt that she needed to get out, away from all these uncaring idiots. So she had rushed out of the kitchen, spread her wings, and flown away as fast as she could.
After a while, when no more tears would come and her throat was too sore to shout, she heard the clippety-clop of a pony approaching behind her.
Why couldn't the world just leave her alone?
The pony stopped, and Callette could hear the person dismounting. She buried her head in her wing and prayed that they’d go away.
'Callette?'
The voice came to her through her feathers, a piercing, sharp tone she knew at once. She wasn't sure how she felt about her being here, though.
'Is that really you? Are you hurt?'
The pony was being pulled off the road towards her. Callette scrunched herself further into a ball.
When the thump- thump of hoofs on grass kept approaching, she lifted one of wings to shout back at the nearing figure.
‘Leave me alone!' She was surprised at how hoarse and hysterical her voice sounded.
Then, suddenly, her wings were pushed back and a face thrust itself into her sight.
'Don't be an idiot, Callette! If there's a problem, I'll help.'
Callette looked up, blinking away the tears that clouded her view, straight into Querida's eyes.
'Nothing’s wrong. I just want to be alone!' she muttered grumpily at the small woman standing over her. 'So go away!'
This statement had no affect on Querida whatsoever. Her sharp eyes continued their examination of the griffin's face, taking in the red eyes, wet feathers and general grubbiness.
'Now that's nonsense,’ she said, standing up, hands on her hips. 'It's quite obvious that something big is troubling you. Tell me.'
It was that commanding voice, Callette thought as she straightened up to tell Querida. You just couldn't say no to her.
So she told her everything. She let out all her frustration, and told the wrinkled green woman all about her troubles. She tried starting with the last fight, but found she had to go earlier and earlier every time to tell Querida the whole story. In the end, she ended up starting from Angelo's birth.
By the time she finished an understanding look had come onto Querida's face. In the meantime, Callettle found herself speaking louder and louder, and ended up almost screaming at the enchantress.
'They all treat me just like I'm their slave!' she screeched hopelessly.
Querida nodded calmly. 'They do, don't they?'
Callette looked up, eyes wide with surprise.
'But a big part of that is your fault,' Querida continued. 'Although I agree that it's unfair you got burdened with all the work. You shouldn’t have gotten all of it, but you rather took it onto yourself, though, didn't you?'
Callette couldn't believe her ears. 'I did not!' she answered indignantly.
'Not deliberately, of course, but from what you told me it seems you did everything everyone told you, never complained about it, and then thought of yourself as a tortured saint. It never even occurred to you to say anything, but you still wondered why no-one helped you.'
The griffin rose completely, standing on her hind legs and spreading her wings. She looked so large and so intimidating that Querida stumbled a few steps back.
'How dare you say that? After all I've been through? No-one cared a bit about how I felt! Yes, you are right – they never asked, not once! But they should have. You have no idea – you just don't understand how I feel!'
Querida straightened, turned her chin proudly and answered, staring straight into Callette's eyes again. 'I understand, of course I do. But from my experience nothing will ever get better if you don't tell other people about it. Humans are not the sort of creatures who understand things by themselves.' She put a hand on Callette’s front leg, and continued calmly. 'Don't think for a moment that I actually listen to that advice. Do I look like the sort of person who confesses their feelings regularly? Of course not! I don’t think I’ve told anyone about a genuine emotion for decades. And look at me, a lonely, wrinkled old tyrant. You should take me as an example.'
As she let the words sink into her mind, Callette felt the burning fire of her anger die out slowly, put out by the cold, damp feelings of sorrow, pity and shame. Her insides felt small, icy and hard, stuck in some distant corner of her body. She could see the old woman was sad, sad that she had never taken her own advice, sad that she thought the griffin wasn't listening to it now. Sad that life had to be that way.
So Callette lowered her wings, and tried to think of something sensible to say, something that would make both of them feel better. But there wasn’t anything.
So she shuffled forward, lifted a wing and wrapped it around the small, frail body of the enchantress, hugging her as gently as she could. Then she murmured quietly into the bony shoulder, 'You're right. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'
They didn't say anything for a while. They each knew what the other was thinking, and neither of them felt any need to talk about it. Slowly but surely, the hard ball in Callette’s stomach melted, and all that was left was a reassuring puddle of warmness.
Neither of them knew how long they stayed there, a brown griffin with her wing around a green woman. Then, after the pony came and nudged her gently, Querida stepped back and replied, coolly but kindly, with a gentle wobble to her voice. 'There's nothing to be sorry for.’
She took a breath and continued, much more business-like. ‘Now, let's get you back home before Derk and Mara start getting really worried. I was heading that way anyway, and I am quite capable of keeping up with you if you don't fly too fast. I can have a word with your parents when we get there. That is, if you want me to.'
Callette's beak curved into a small smile. 'Actually, I think I should do that myself. I’ve learnt my lesson.'
Querida smiled back at her, the smile sitting strangely on her creased face. She turned and mounted the impatient pony. The smile remained on her face while she watched Callette launch.
Then, both still smiling, the griffin and the enchantress set off together in the direction of Derkholm and home.