“I suppose I ought to tell you, insanity runs in my family.”
“Pardon?”
“Yeah. On my mother's side, anyway. I guess my father could be crazy too, but he didn't stick around long enough for me to find out. So at least he wasn't crazy enough to marry my mother. I guess that says something for him.”
I'm talking too much. I'm nervous. Why the hell am I nervous?
The man reaches over and stabs a little round potato with his fork and makes it disappear into his mud-colored beard.
Mouth full, he says, “I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, Miss Drake.”
I, on the other hand, am not so sure. He spears a scrap of meat, dips it in drippy brown gravy. While he chews, I keep right on talking too much. “I'm only telling you this because if it turns out this is my first full-fledged psychotic break, and you're really the doctor in the loony bin, well, you know, then it seems like important information.”
He looks up again, one brow raised, the fork hovering near his mouth. “Miss Drake, I can assure you, I am not a doctor.”
I admit he doesn't look like a doctor. He has gravy on the front of his purple dressing gown, and I don't suppose most psychiatrists interview patients while eating their dinner. Plus, the room doesn't look anything like a hospital ward, and I've seen my share. They don't usually have stone walls or high wood-raftered ceilings. I've certainly never seen one with arched, stone-framed windows. The place looks more like the inside of a castle than a hospital room.
He smiles again. “My apologies, Miss Drake. I know how disorienting these meetings can be.” He takes a napkin from his lap and dabs his lips. “Let me start again.” He touches his chest. “My name is Parnell Florian. I know, it's a funny name. You may call me Parnell if you wish. I'm afraid a lot of the ruggers call me Flo behind my back.” He chuckles and arches his eyebrows. “Very amusing.”
“Ruggers?”
He scratches a tooth with his fingertip then examines the nail. “Yes. That seems to be the current jargon.”
This gets me exactly nowhere.
Flight of the Wren Description:
“The Arcane Order of Carpet Flyers! The Sublime Society of Scudders! Didn’t you read the contract I sent you, Miss Drake?”
Sure, Renny had read it. Obviously it was some kind of joke. And this guy with the flakes of pie crust in his beard, he is obviously some kind of whacko.
But no. Parnell Florian is no whacko – and Maysa, the ancient silk-brocade carpet now rolled up under her bed, is no joke. It really can fly, and Renny’s life just got a whole lot more interesting. And when she meets the other members of the Order – her flock – life gets more interesting still. Most interesting of all is the boy called Stonechat, who seems to find her pretty interesting as well.
But when a vengeful rug-rider called Mistral kidnaps Parnell and steals the all-important Orb of Descrying, Renny and the ragtag flock of misfits must ride to the rescue – or else face an adversary who can control their very dreams. One by one, all the people Renny has come to care about fall into Mistral’s hands, and she must find courage and ingenuity she never knew she had.
A modern day fantasy that Publisher’s Weekly called: “A great combination of fantasy, adventure, and romance…an engaging and enjoyable read,” The Flight of the Wren is, at its core, a story of family. Estranged from her mentally-ill mother, bounced from one foster home to another, Renny feels no connection to anyone in her life. In her darkest moments she fears that she will never really care about anyone…only to find out that having someone you really care about can be the scariest thing of all.
And that sometimes the hardest part about flying is just learning to hang on.
