There are only three keys to the cellar and for a long while I stared at the adlock at my feet before peering into the darkness that reached halfway up the stairs.

"What are you looking for?"

I gave a violent start, nearly dropping my candle into the abyss as a curious pair of eyes peeked past my shoulder..

"Don't sneak up on me! Eres does it so often I fear I'll meet my death by the likes of him."

She set her jaw. "Who is Eres? He doesn't sound very nice and I don't like the thought of him frightening you."

I shook my head.

"Never mind," and reaching for the padlock, "the cellar' s been tampered with. And none are to have the keys except Mrs. Satcher, Ms. Petruny and Ms. Laggsby, and myself," I added after her inquisitive gaze landed on the key in my hand.

"I thought there were only three keys."

"There are. These belong to Ms. Laggsby—wait! It must be Petruny down there."

"No, not Petruny," my companion said slowly. "She is in the land of dreams as we speak."

"Well, it isn't Mrs. Satch—"

A low grating reached us from below, followed by the pitter-patter of hurrying feet. Fear gripped me instantly.

"The madman! Oh, he's gotten in somehow—Quistelle!"

She was slowly descending the cracked steps when she looked back with electrifying eyes.

"I have to get him, so keep quiet, will you?"

This brave yet unbelievably stupid Morovi meant to face the burglar alone, and in the cellar! Nothing would possess me to stand there as she took on this demon, and I bolted, ready to wake Petruny and Laggsby and everyone else for that matter. I hadn't gone three feet before she grabbed me, and shook me with a strength I never guessed her to possess.

"No! I will not let you and your big mouth be the ruin of him!" There was a burning glint in her eyes which frightened me more than her ferocity or whoever lingered in the cellar. And I stood, too shaken to say or do anything.

Her eyes softened. She slackened her grip and with a sigh, patted my hand gently.

"I am sorry. I was vicious."

All I could do was nod.

"Please trust me. He's good and wouldn't hurt a bee unless necessary. Come see for yourself." And taking my trembling hand and relieving me of my candle, she guided me down the stairs.

"Where are you?" she called in a faint whisper.

The candlelight bounced off the dusty bottles resting in their nooks and cubbies, while mice scuttled across our path shrieking and squealing their curses at our light.

"Ugh! Now I remember why I hated to come down here," I said, finding my voice. "I don't like rodents. They're filthy things."

Quistelle smiled faintly. Then said quietly,

"Try not to make any sudden movements, Miss Lia. He is rather particular about unfamiliar people."

I was tempted to say something sharp despite my pounding chest. But I decide against it, watching her carefully as we crept along.

She could do anything to me down her, I thought, and all the rumours I'd heard over the last few weeks came rushing at me in a whirlwind. Why did she look so evil earlier? Those eyes could easily belong to witch, couldn't they? What if...?

A scratching sound made me jump.

"What was that?"

She nodded her head to a place between a stack of empty rum barrels.

"Don't shine too much light," she warned, handing me the candle. "Watch," and bringing her fingers to her lips, gave a low whistle. Before my eyes the wall started moving! And from it came a return call to Quistelle's whistle.

Eventually,—bless my eyes!—a most extraordinary creature appeared before us. It slowly changed from the dull gray walls to a greenish brown, white breasted thing with a powerful beak and long talons. The base of his tail was touched with a brilliant gold plume. Indeed it was the largest bird I'd ever seen, each wing looking as long as me when he spread them.

"AWK!" it cried as it cooked its head at me revealing bright green orbs for eyes.

The room suddenly turned upside down before Quistelle, caught me. She fanned my face.

"Oh, no, no, no! You do not want to faint down here, Miss Lia."

She settled me against one of the shelves, disappeared and was back at my side with a bottle of brandy.

"Come, come, have a drink. It will do you well."

I swallowed the burning liquor and made a face.

The bird came near, nuzzling Quistelle's ear.

"Siroosylus stop! Get out of the light, I cannot see."

"What is it?"

"Nothing, you are fine."

"I meant that!" I said pointing to the creature as it busily chugged down a bottle of red wine.

"Hey! Give me that you little thief!" It was the rarest sight in the world to see her fly about in pursuit of a giant bird guzzling a bottle of wine.

"Siroosylus, drop it."

An empty bottle clattered to the stone floor.

My head was spinning. "It must have been thirsty."

"He. "

I closed my eyes. "Quistelle... Please tell me this is a dream or hallucinations—either one would be fine—Ahh!" I drew my hand away from the candle. "What are you doing?"

"You felt that, did you not?" She smiled. "Then you are awake and this is not a hallucination."

The bird wandered about at a distance, spreading his wings.

"What kind of bird is it? I've never seen anything like it. Why is it so big? But more importantly, how in the world did he get in here?!"

"He picked the lock," she said matter-of-factly. She returned some empty bottles to the shelves.

"What? Quistelle, can you hear yourself?"

"Never mind that. We need to get him outside or he'll drain all your liquor bottles."

"Very funny."

"Quick, get some sugar."

Mustering my strength, I climbed the stairs warily but Quistelle's pet paid no attention to me as he kept plucking at the hem of his mistress' dress.

Upstairs everything was still which was surprising considering the racket we were making earlier.

"Bedlaam's been ransacked!" I cried upon entering the pantry.

There was meal everywhere! The entire place was topsy turvy and I was devastated to find that the barrel of cankaloons, which I had been looking forward to having after my meal, was empty.

I grabbed a handful of sugar.

"Curse that bird!"

A bird that can open doors! Well, I never!

~

"Where in heaven's name did you find that dreadful creature?"

Quistelle had coaxed her creature outside with lumps of sugar. We were busy tidying the pantry.

She upturned an empty basket.

"He is not dreadful."

"I'm sorry, madame but to me he is. I'm still shaking all over! My heart is running a trifle fast, I've got goosebumps on my arms and I fainted half an hour ago!"

"I did not realize how sensitive you were."

"Sensitive?! Do you even realise the situation we're in?What are we to do now that that bird of yours ate all the cankaloons?"

She arched a pretty brow. "Cankaloons?"

"And to think it opened the side door! Impossible! It's a bird! They haven't hands!" I was on the verge of tears.

Quistelle muffled a snicker with her sleeve and ended up spilling the meal bag she had just filled.

"Tats for rats! Look what you've done." I grabbed a little bowl she'd been using.

"I am sorry, but your passionate disappointment over the loss of the cankaloons is too much."

"You, my dear girl, are the queerest person I have ever met."

She smiled as if it were a compliment.

"Thank you, I find you strange as well but in a refreshing sort of way. Here, let me," and she lifted the refilled sack with ease, sliding it onto the empty barrel. She wrinkled her nose.

Honestly, I cannot fathom why people like these things," she said, tapping the bin. "The nuts themselves are good but when pressed with sugar and things they are mightily distasteful."

I ignored her disrespect of one of Gordorf's oldest treats. She doesn't know anything about such things. She keeps dreadfully large birds and sings sad songs and wanders through the woods, like a nymph! She'll be lost if I don't help her.

I took a deep breath.

"There is talk of an unseen man entering shops and—"

"How people here do love to ramble about such nonsense! If he is unseen, how can one say it was a man?"

"I'll have you know it isn't everyday giant birds let themselves into people's homes. Such nonsense as that is impossible!"

She laughed, shaking her head.

"You ought to visit the mountains. There is so much you people do not understand."

She paused then added patiently,

"A thing is not impossible simply because it has never been done. And you have witnessed this very night that Siroosylus can open doors and windows or whatever is in his fancy. How can you say it is impossible?"

"Correction! I haven't seen him open any doors. You," I said, pointing an accusatory finger, ma'am, let him in yourself!"

She gasped as though I had hexed her.

"Accusations!"

"Yes!" was my mocking response. "Accusations! Now what have you to say to that?"

"I never let him in Malia, honestly I did not! I would never have. It is too dangerous. Siroosylus is the dearest friend I have and I would never purposefully endanger him!"

It was said so earnestly, her golden eyes so pleading and she even eliminated Miss from my name. I was almost compelled to believe her... But how could I? A bird? Absolutely not!

"Do not draw your face like that," she said, breaking into my reverie. "It is not becoming of you."

"Never mind that right now, let's not stray from the subject."

"We haven't strayed."

"Well I am tired and confused and my head hurts." My stomach cried out once again. "And I'm starved."

Quistelle sprang to her feet. "I will get you something, no worries. I may be a minute because I am not familiar with the arrangement of things in here," and she was gone.

Slowly pieces began falling into place. If what she said was true, then there was never a man letting himself into the shops in lower Gordorf. It was the bird. That could explain why nothing was ever stolen. But how was it that no one ever saw it? I then remembered what happened in the cellar. Violet had said many weeks before that she'd heard noises in the night, yet could not find the cause of it! And as I remember, it was some time before I was able to make him out against the wall. He was camouflaged! That's why nobody ever saw him."

I shook my head. "Nonsense! Amazing but impossible nonsense!"

And what would Eres and his spirits say to this? I chuckled then groaned and covered my face.

Quistelle returned full of pride at having found 'a well prepared plate of victuals', and I dared not tell her that I had prepared it myself before the encounter with her bird. She was too pleased with herself.

"I returned the key to Ms. Laggsby's apron," she said presently.

I nodded.

"And I locked the cellar."

"Thank you."

There was a pause.

"Lia?"

"Yes?"

"You will not mention Siroosylus to anyone, will you?"

I shrugged. "It isn't likely anyone would believe me if I did."

My response did not satisfy her and she stared at me.

"Very well, fine. I shan't say a word of your bird or what happened tonight. And it mustn't happen again."

"Thank you."

"And as your friend, I should like to know everything about you, whether of great or little importance. Can we agree on it?"

She nodded and handed me an uncorked bottle.

"This might lift your spirits."

I smiled weakly. "We shall speak about Sirsoo tomorrow, perhaps."

"Siroosylus," she corrected me.

"Yes, of course. Sir-roo-sil-lus," I said slowly.

She smiled sweetly.

"Exactly."