Muttering to himself, the Owl-King marched slightly unsteadily down a long passageway; Bethany, who was walking just behind him, had the distinct impression that not just one voice, but three different voices were holding a hushed conversation beneath his flowing golden robe, although annoyingly she couldn’t make out what they were saying.
The passageway ended in a large door, decorated with an owl holding a drooping lily flower in its beak; the doors swung open and Bethany followed the now-tottering figure over the threshold. The Owl-King steadied himself, leaning on the back of an opulently appointed throne, which was one of the few items of furniture in the room; he turned to Bethany, ‘you say you know my secret, but I know yours too!’
The Owl-King bent forward; his helmet twitched, then suddenly he crumpled to the floor; his helmet rolled away and three small figures scurried from beneath the golden robe.
‘This is Owlet Hall and we are the Owlets!’ the three of them danced around Bethany, hooting with mischievous laughter, ‘drop the pretence, you’re not the golden-haired child at all!’
Undeterred, Bethany planted her hands on her hips, ‘well, to be fair, you three aren’t the Owl-King either.’
/….to be continued.
Written in response to two challenges:
Bryony, Bethany and Mr Eyre first appeared in my historical fantasy fiction novel, Following the Green Rabbit. They’ve been begging to go on another adventure and now they’ve got their wish!