I called to Tuni, “The mosquito wouldn’t refuse because that’s what mosquitoes like to do—that’s their nature—they bite, right?”
“Yessiree! The Princess Kiranmala will be performing nightly at seven and eleven in the royal forest tea salon!” the bird burbled into the stick, as if it were a microphone. “Catch the best puzzle-solving act this side of the transit corridor! And be sure not to miss our early-bird shrimp cutlets special!”
“So the mosquito—” I began, but Tuni interrupted me.
“Did you see what I did there?” He put his wing up to his mouth as if telling me a secret. “With the early-bird special? Early bird, get it?”
“Hilarious, I get it,” I agreed. “The early bird catches the worm, the whole thing.”
Tuntuni screeched in glee. “Early bird catches the worm! Good one! Going to have to remember that!”
Trying not to roll my eyes, I rushed on to solve the rest of Tuni’s riddle.
“So the mosquito would threaten to bite the elephant, and then the elephant would threaten to drink the sea, the sea would threaten to douse the fire, the fire threaten to burn the stick, the stick threaten to beat the cat …” I stopped to take a breath.
“The cat threaten to catch the mouse, the mouse threaten to bite the belly,” Neel supplied.
“And the king would then agree, after all, to arrest the barber,” we concluded together.
“Which proves what, boys and girls?” Tuni twirled the stick of bamboo in his mouth like a baton.
“That cooperation is a good thing?” I guessed.
“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.”