“That kings should invest in mousetraps?” said Neel wildly.
Tuntuni collapsed with a wing over his eyes. “Oh, the tragedy of stupidity. And I had such high hopes for you two.”
I looked at the tiny bird, who had our fates in the palm of his yellow feathery hand. Er, wing. That’s when it struck me.
“That the smallest creature can be the mightiest?”
Tuni sat bolt upright. “Is that your final answer?”
“Uh …” I glanced at Neel, who nodded. “Yes, yes, it’s my final answer.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to dial a prince?”
“No, she doesn’t want to dial a prince,” snapped Neel.
“I’m sorry, I’ll need to hear it directly from the contestant,” Tuni said in a fake game-show-announcer voice.
“No, I don’t want to dial a prince.”
“You’re absolutely sure you want to lock it in?” the bird boomed into the bamboo stick/microphone. “This is for the whole kit and caboodle, you know.”
“Yes, yes, I want to lock it in!”
“Oh, just get on with it!” Neel sniped.
“Well then …” The bird paused to flap around in a wobbly circle. “You are right!”
Absurdly, even though we hadn’t actually won anything, Neel high-fived me and I jumped up and down, whooping.
“Okay, we’ve solved your riddle,” Neel said. “Now will you tell us how to find Kiran’s parents?”
The bird considered us, cocking his head this way and that. His bright eyes twinkled.
“If you can tell me why hummingbirds hum!”
“Oh, come on, Tuni …” Neel began, but I waved him quiet.
“Because they don’t know the words!”
Neel gave me an impressed, raised-eyebrow look and I shrugged. “What can I say, I’m a girl of many talents.”
Next time I saw him, I’d have to thank Niko for having such an endless collection of idiotic jokes.
“Enough of this. Just tell us where her parents are!” the prince demanded.
The bird looked offended, and so I quickly said, “Okay, how about I tell you a good one?”
“Egg-cellent!” the minister twittered. “Eggs-hilarating! Eggs-traordinary!”
I barely refrained from groaning and asked, “What kind of math do snowy owls like?”
“The prince has a brother that’s an owl, you know,” the bird chirped.
Neel rolled his eyes. “We don’t have all day. If you don’t know the answer, just say so!”
After a few minutes of twirling his stick-slash-cigar and mumbling “what kind of math,” “snowy owls like,” the bird gave up, and I supplied, “Owlgebra!”
Tuntuni and Neel looked at each other, perplexed. “I don’t get it,” Neel said flatly.
“Like algebra? Snowy owls like owl-gebra?”
“Must be a 2-D thing.” Tuntuni shook his head sympathetically.
Neel gave a patronizing thumbs-up. “Good try, though.”
I practically growled. “How can you guys not know what algebra is?”
“That’s okay, Princess. Not everyone can have a good sense of humor like me.” The bird tilted his little head. “But maybe you should stop wasting so much time. Your parents are missing, you know.”
“You don’t say?” My hands itched to strangle the bird. “You think you could tell us where they are?”
“Remember, I’m just the oracle for truth. I can’t help you interpret it,” the bird said rather mysteriously before he cleared his throat, puffed out his yellow chest, and began: “Neelkamal and Kiranmala, heed my warning well
Your families will crumble, your life an empty shell Unless you find the jewel in evil’s hidden room
Cross ruby seas full of love beneath the dark red moon In a monster’s arms be cradled and cross the desert wide In the Mountains of Illusions find a wise man by your side On a diamond branch, a golden bird must sing a blessed song Follow brother red and sister white, but not a moment too long In your heart’s fountain, set the pearly waters free Let golden branch grow from the silver tree
Only then will you ever find beauty that is true
The magic bird’s every song will shower bliss on you.”
“But …” Neel asked. “What does all that mean—the family crumbling? The ruby sea?”
“I already told you. I’m just the vessel. Any interpretation is far beyond my pay grade.”
“But you must be able to tell us something? Where to start looking for my family?” I begged.
Tuntuni relented, puffing out his chest again. “In the East of North of East, the Maya Pahar climbs. Stars are born in its clouds beyond the reach of time. Outside our understanding, the Maya Mountains hide. Bravery and wisdom can be your only guide.”
Then, as abruptly as he had spoken, the bird rudely belched, flapped his wings, and started to fly off the branch.
“Wait a minute!” I called. “The East of North of East—where’s that? How can I find these Maya Mountains?”
“What, d’ya want me to draw you a map?” the bird snapped, spitting a few more seeds before it flew away. “This ain’t Joisey, Princess, fuggedaboutit.”
Just what I needed, a bird with a bad attitude!
“Now what?” I asked Neel.
“Well, first things first, we write down the poem.” He pulled a half-ripped piece of paper out of his pocket. “After you’ve been around the Kingdom Beyond Seven Oceans and Thirteen Rivers awhile, you realize almost everything around here—even silly poems—have hidden meanings.”
“Why can’t he tell us what all that stuff means?” I complained. “That seems totally unfair. I mean, we solved his riddle. And the dumb joke.”
“I don’t get it either, but those poems just come to him—he doesn’t know what they mean any more than we do,” Neel said as he scribbled on the paper with a stubby pencil. “People used to get so mad at him about it. That’s why he developed that nasty personality to fend them off.”
“Is that why you do it too? Have a nasty personality, I mean.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. I realized how mean they must sound, so to backpedal, I laughed in a super-awkward, high-pitched way, then immediately wanted to bash myself in the head. Real smooth, Kiran. Real smooth.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever,” Neel said as he folded and put the paper away. “Come on, let’s go and see what my father has to say about Tuntuni’s poem.”
Still embarassed by my own words, I glanced down at myself and wondered what he saw. “Um, shouldn’t I wash up and change before I present myself to a … king?”
“You’re fine,” Neel said without even looking at me. But he was wearing silks and jewels, and I was in dirty jeans, a smudged T-shirt, and muddy combat boots. I realized I hadn’t even bathed since being covered in rakkhosh snot on my front lawn. For the first time in my life, I wished I wasn’t always so worried about fading into the background.
“Seriously, Neel?” I put my hands on my hips and stopped walking. “Seriously?” There was a chunk of hair loose from my braid and it drifted right in front of my eyes. I blew it away with a gust of breath, but it settled back on my face.
He studied me, considering. “My father won’t care what you look like. Now, my stepmothers, that’s another story.”
“Your stepmothers?”