William Calhoun and the Black Feather. Book I

After visiting the enormous hall of the Magic Post Office, completely covered with letters, William couldn’t even imagine that he would face something similar. But he was wrong. The hall he and Nymus arrived at was just as huge. And the floor was also covered, but not with letters. William took a closer look. There were countless feathers all around, of different colours and sizes.

Nymus said by his side:

“Here we are!”

“Where are we, Nymus?” William asked.

“We are at the Feather Nest! This is where wizards get their magic feathers! And if there is a place that has the biggest number of all kinds of birds, then this is it!” he pointed at the feathers under their feet.

“And why is there nobody in here?”

“This is the flight room, Master Calhoun! By the end of the day, when the Feather Nest closes down, birds are allowed in here to fly. I shall stay here to wait for you while you are inside,” he pointed at an unremarkable door on the far wall of the hall.

No wonder William hadn’t noticed it at first.

“But why should I go there alone?” William asked. He didn’t want to part with Nymus. He was used to the mailmage always being by his side, to them doing everything and going everywhere together.

“Those are the rules, Master Calhoun,” Nymus replied. “No wizard may enter the Feather Nest accompanied by another person. This excludes mistakes in the choice the birds make.”

“What choice? What are you talking about?”

“You see, Master Calhoun, when a wizard enters the Feather Nest for the first time, one of the birds flies over and grants him a feather. Before coming here, wizards can only guess which bird will choose them.”

“What happens next?” William asked, thinking that this procedure reminded him of a child’s game more and more.

“After one of the birds comes down from its perch and grants its feather to a wizard, Mister Wellington takes the feather, examines it and explains how to treat that exact feather and which personality that feather has. Then he registers the feather in the Feather Tome and gives it to its new owner.”

“Nymus, what am I supposed to do? No bird has granted me this feather. I’ve had it since my birth. Won’t I have any problems because of that?”

“I think there should not be any problems!” Nymus replied. “The feather can obey only one wizard. If it obeys you, then it does not have any other owners beside you. Just tell Mister Wellington that you have come to register a magic feather and it is all in the envelope.”

“Alright, Nymus! Then I’m off!” William breathed out and headed towards the door on the far wall of the hall.

As he approached the door, he heard some sounds coming from inside. William opened the door and all but drowned in the cacophony of birds crying, whistling, warbling, singing, cawing, and chirping. He suddenly remembered the time he’d been to a zoo with Mrs. Hoggart and was deafened by the noise coming from the bird cage. But compared to this racket, that noise was silence. William sighed, driving the memories off, made a step, and the door closed behind his back all by itself.

William made another step and looked around. This huge room seemed to be full of birds, from top to bottom. William had never seen so many birds in one place. Just then he made out a counter through this live wall of wings and feathers, which stood deeper into the room and resembled a giant nest. There was also another thing. Despite the floor being made of stone, there were full-scale trees, bushes, and flowers growing right through it, with a small swamp in one of the corners. William had no doubts it was real: there was a rotten smell coming from the small swamp, as well as frogs croaking. The birds were still flying chaotically around the room and those that stopped flying landed on almost any object in here: walls, the ceiling, windows, tree branches, and other places.

Somehow making his way to the ‘nest’, William was surprised to find it empty. He decided that there was nobody in here apart from the birds and turned around to leave. But then a huge hawk appeared from nowhere and dashed right at him. William closed his eyes, but the hawk flew over his head with a cry and disappeared.

When William opened his eyes, he was surprised to find a grey-haired old man behind the counter, with a sharp face and an eagle-like nose. His grey hair fell to his shoulders and his yellow eyes with black pupils, just like that of the eagle, stared right at William.

“Welcome to the Feather Nest, young wizard!” he said in a shrill voice and then, suddenly irritated with the noise around there, made a deafening cry, much like an eagle. The noise instantly died out.

The old man gave William an expectant look.

“Good day, sir…” he greeted the man, looking into the face of this strange master of magic feathers with a bit of fear.

“…Wellington. I’m at your service, young wizard! You have probably come here for a magic feather?”

Wellington walked around the counter, came up to William and, taking his hand, started examining it, not unlike a tailor who examines a client’s figure.

“Sir, Mister Wellington,” William hurried to move his hand away, “I’ve already got a magic feather.”

Mister Wellington returned behind the counter at once.

“Then why have you come here, young man?” he asked, puzzled.

“I’d like to register my magic feather,” William replied.

“To register?” Wellington stared at William’s face. “I can’t seem to remember you… When have you been here before?”

“Never. I’ve never been here. And I’ve never been granted the feather.”

“Oh?” Mister Wellington’s face looked even more puzzled. “Then, may I ask you how you have received it?”

“I’ve had it since my childhood. For a long time, I had no idea what it was for. But then they told me, and I want to study at the Preparatory Course. And, as I understand, I need to register the feather to do that.”

Mister Wellington was listening to him, as they say, with his mouth open, but he quickly overcame his shock and asked:

“May I take a look at the feather?”

William took the feather out of his pocket and placed it on Mister Wellington’s hand. Strangely enough, the feather didn’t mind. Mister Wellington gave it a long and thorough examination, turning it over in his hands, and then he stated:

“White Raven!” He gave the feather another look. “A contourless atypical flyfeather. Quite unusual for a magic feather!”

“Why is that?” William asked, genuinely interested.

“Well, first of all, magic feathers usually appear in the steering part of the bird, that is, in the tail. And this feather…” at this point Mister Wellington gave the feather another intent look as if checking himself, “it is, no doubt, from the bird’s wing!”

“Is it of any significance?” William asked.

“No, no. But it’s a curious fact. So curious that I can’t personally remember a similar case,” Mister Wellington said. “Secondly, the fan part of the feather is quite fluffy, which means two things. First: this feather hasn’t been used for a long time or it’s very new. And second: the bird that used to carry it lived on the swamps. Black spots on the fan part of the feather are a proof to that. They appear on birds that often dive into the water for food. But here comes the mystery,” at this point Mister Wellington’s voice dropped to a whisper: “White Ravens never dive for food. They steal it from smaller birds or eat carrion, like all ravens.”

“So, you’re saying that this isn’t a White Raven feather?”

“I’m saying that this is a rather dangerous feather, young man!” Mister Wellington said. “Think well before using it. Reckless use of this magic feather and at this young age may lead to serious trouble.”

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind,” William replied politely. “So, may I register it?”

Instead of answering, Mister Wellington opened a large book that lay on the counter beside him. He brought the feather close to his eyes to see the name written on it and froze. Then he said very quietly:

“Calhoun…” Mister Wellington’s eyes went slowly up to look at William, then, just as slowly, dropped back to the inscription.

“What’s surprised you so much?” William asked.

But Mister Wellington, still silent, bent over the open book and started looking through it quickly.

The book itself deserved a special mention. Its feathered black cover seemed to be alive, and distant bird cries that were coming from its pages terrified William. Soon, Mister Wellington found the page he needed and pressed the tip of the feather to it. At the same moment, the book slammed shut on its own accord. Mister Wellington barely had time to lift the feather from the page in one quick movement. Then he looked up at William and said strictly:

“Your feather, young wizard! Under no circumstances it can be registered in this book!”

“But…” William had no idea what was going on. “Why?”

“The registration record with the information about your feather…”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“…has been in the Feather Tome for a long time, which automatically excludes its second registration!”

“Whose name is it registered under?”

Mister Wellington opened the Feather Tome again on the required page, scanned the entries and found the one he needed.

“The name of the owner disappeared from the pages of the Feather Tome long time ago!” he said strictly.

“What does this mean?” William started to feel really worried.

“That he is long dead!”

At that, William felt completely lost, not knowing what to do now. Meanwhile, Mister Wellington continued:

“Names disappear from the pages of the Feather Tome only in this case!”

“You mean,” William asked once more, “I can’t register this feather again?”

“A magic feather cannot be registered twice, as it cannot serve two owners even if it has been inherited. Thus, allowing you to use it will violate article 64 of the Wizard Constitution stating that illegal use of magic feathers by anyone is persecuted and severely punished by wizhunters. But…” Mister Wellington suddenly fell silent.

“But what, sir?” William had already said a mental goodbye to studying at the Preparatory Course and to everything that came after it.

“…considering the fact that you are using it and that it’s been with you for a long time, besides, it recognizes you as its owner, and if we consider the fact that magic feathers don’t serve strangers… and are free to choose a wizard for themselves…”

“Then what?” This long listing of all the facts and rules William didn’t understand made the waiting completely unbearable for him.

“Then there’s no law violation in this!” Mister Wellington finished his thought.

William felt the lump in his throat starting to melt and his hands stop sweating.

“So I may use it because it is already in the Feather Tome?”

“That’s right, young Calhoun!”

“In that case, thank you,” William said sincerely and turned to leave, but at that moment, the old man called out:

“Mister Calhoun!”

“Yes?” William turned around.

“Always keep the feather close to you and give it to no one! Your feather is able of committing any kinds of heroic acts, but at the same time it is capable of truly horrible things.”

William was overwhelmed with happiness. First of all, he’d registered his magic feather. Secondly, he was up for the unknown study at the Preparatory Course of magic. Perhaps, that was why he didn’t pay due attention to the last words of Mister Wellington and just replied politely:

“I’ll remember, sir! Good day!” and walked towards the door.

At the same moment, a shrill eagle cry pierced the room. He turned around in fright and saw that the nest-shaped counter was empty again and the birds that had been sitting quietly on their places were flying around chaotically, filling the room with the noise.

William hurried to leave the room and shut the door behind himself with relief as he headed to Nymus.

“Master Calhoun!” he called out happily. “I hope everything is fine?”

William nodded and Nymus and he left the Feather Nest and started walking along the street filled with wizards and other creatures, unfamiliar to William.

“Where are we, Nymus?” he asked, looking around this strange street.

“Feather Street!” Nymus replied. “Mostly, visiting wizards live here.”

As they were passing one of the numerous shop windows, William read the name ‘Fancy Wizard’. There were several dozen dummies with robes of different designs, lengths and colours.

“Did it go well?” Nymus asked again.

“Yes! Partially!”

And William told him about his odd misadventures in detail. Nymus listened quietly, but in the end, he said:

“Do not worry! At least, now you are the owner of a registered feather, which means we can send a letter to the Wizard Education Department and apply for the Preparatory Course! I shall handle it. Master Calhoun has nothing more to worry about.”

“I’m so grateful to you for everything you’re doing for me, Nymus!”

“Serving Master Calhoun is my duty!” he responded.

“Where to now?” William asked briskly.

“I shall peregrine Master Calhoun to the Blackfriars Lane, then I shall return to the Magic Post Office and start on the letter to the Department. The answer should come by the evening.”

With that, he took Williams’ hand and they peregrined.