Part 8 (1/2)

”We do not seek pa.s.sage,” Wind-voice said clearly. ”We wish to find Morgan, king of the eagles.”

”If you are sent here to represent the archaeopteryx empire, the chief wishes you well, but he cannot see you at present,” said the eagle wearily.

”No, we come in the name of Fleydur, a bird of the Skythunder tribe,” Wind-voice answered.

”We do not know him.” The eagle landed on a dead pine tree. He s.h.i.+fted his weight from one set of talons to the other, so the branch shook. Stormac looked at Wind-voice, confused.

The sentry eagle turned and let out a series of short screams. Another eagle, larger, somehow familiar, swung into view. He landed on the same branch, and his gaze pierced the two travelers.

Then, though it almost broke his heart, Forlath said quite slowly and deliberately, ”There is no Fleydur.”

”That's ridiculous!” Stormac burst out. ”We met him, we know him, we fought alongside him!”

Forlath shook his head again. ”The bird that you name-he does not exist.”

Wind-voice froze and then tried again. ”Well, whoever our friend was, we shared many a song together. I think he would like us to give you a gift, like gifts he always gives to birds around him.”

Forlath's heart was racing. It took all his training in dignity and courtesy to stop happy tears from spilling out of his great brown eyes.

”It is something that thousands of birds would like, something that some birds would even die for,” Wind-voice murmured. Stormac shot him a worried glance. He smiled rea.s.suringly and continued. ”Its l.u.s.ter outs.h.i.+nes the best of diamonds; its durability is greater than iron or stone. It is so valuable that n.o.bird has ever dared to place a price upon it. The most precious thing in the world!” He placed his claws in the feathers over his heart and reached out, his claws closed over something. He uncurled them slowly.

”Love.” He smiled gently over his empty, open claws.

”He still loves us! Oh, Fleydur, my brother,” Forlath said, his face collapsing in a confusion of sadness and joy. The mask of dignity faded, and Wind-voice found himself looking at the same kind eyes that he remembered from Fleydur's face.

”Come, do come. Tell me more of the elder brother of mine. I haven't seen him for so many seasons.” The eagle prince led them to Sword Mountain, the highest peak in the range.

Morgan, the eagle king, was astounded when his son, Forlath, laughing and crying, brought in a myna and a strange white bird, and was even more so when he heard of their adventures with archaeopteryxes and gemstones and with Fleydur. He sat up straighter on his perch, and a wrinkle in his heart softened.

For the first time that day, the old eagle spoke. ”Yes, indeed, we have a gem, like the macaws, the robins, and the herons. It is purple, like our mountains.” He gestured, and Forlath brought out a chest. The eagle prince opened it, and the stone within seemed to be the embodiment of majestic pride and dignity.

”And see here,” Morgan continued, tracing a talon over a carving. ”The Avish script.”

”'Look into the eyes to choose your path,'” Wind-voice read carefully.

”That's right!” Morgan exclaimed, looking glad and surprised that another bird recognized Avish. ”Whatever it means, though, I don't know. But I know one thing.” Morgan closed his eyes, and then he opened them again to look at Wind-voice. ”Perhaps it's time for a change. You tell me of troubles, of war, of darkness, of tyranny. I was wrong to merely watch and do nothing, to forbid our youngsters to go out into danger. If the tale of the hero's sword is true and this new emperor, Maldeor, can lay his claws upon it...” He looked at Forlath. ”There are many things that I've done that I regret, things I believed were for the best. I hope we can still help.” He nodded. ”Yes, it is time to let the world know what our standards are. We value family. We defend one another, and without a doubt it can be said that the birds out there, suffering, are our family too!”

”Aye!” Forlath was grinning widely.

”Wind-voice, Stormac,” the chieftain said, ”I wish you the best of luck. Maldeor indeed must be stopped. I know one thing that may help you: There are gemstones in the south.”

Forlath turned to Stormac. ”My father is not yet well, so I will help you. I will fly the range, gather forces far and wide, and ama.s.s an army. We shall meet you in the frigid seas.” He dipped his golden head. ”One warrior's promise to another.”

And so, as Forlath departed to gather allies, Wind-voice and Stormac set off for the loneliest, coldest lands.

The eagle chieftain's health grew better day after day, and it was not long before he was spotted flying alone, slowly, to the tallest pine on Sword Mountain. Gazing at the starry night sky, he took a deep breath.

”Fleydur...” His old voice crackled as he cried to the wind. ”Fleydur, your father misses you...”

We who are alive have no idea how desperately the dead struggle to come back to the mortal world.-FROM THE B BOOK OF H HERESY

12.

THE L LAST D DEAL.

The dried claws, gripping a piece of charcoal, added a stain to the queue of tallies on the stone wall above the mantle. He counted silently. ”No!” The charcoal fell from his claws.

For Yin Soul, time was measured in months, until today. After their first meeting, Maldeor had had to come to him at the end of every month to drink a potion that infused power into Yin Soul's magical wing. How Yin Soul flattered and soothed Maldeor at each meeting, advising the archaeopteryx of his quest! Yin Soul needed time to ensure that he would win Maldeor's trust completely. If only I had been more careful with 013-Unidentified! That bird, with his honesty, would have been a better victim. If only I had been more careful with 013-Unidentified! That bird, with his honesty, would have been a better victim. He regretted his folly, especially when he discovered from Maldeor that 013-Unidentified was also seeking the gemstones. He regretted his folly, especially when he discovered from Maldeor that 013-Unidentified was also seeking the gemstones.

Yin Soul's claws closed into fists. If he had had a heart still, it would have writhed in his chest like a slimy, dying grub. Just a week, just a week! Just a week, just a week! Only a week till his pending destruction: the day of the arrival of a hero. ”I must live, live, live...!” Yin Soul strode back and forth across his room looking wildly around, s.n.a.t.c.hing books out of his high shelves. Then, with a distracted howl, he tossed them aside. No books could save him now from his doom, but Maldeor could. Only a week till his pending destruction: the day of the arrival of a hero. ”I must live, live, live...!” Yin Soul strode back and forth across his room looking wildly around, s.n.a.t.c.hing books out of his high shelves. Then, with a distracted howl, he tossed them aside. No books could save him now from his doom, but Maldeor could.

”If he would agree to swallow my essence!” Yin Soul talked rapidly to himself, his voice growing shriller by the second. ”If he would swallow it! Maldeor, Maldeor! Oh, tricky, evil, scheming Maldeor! Once I am inside your body, your soul will gradually die, you hateful bird...but I need you. Savior and fool, come! Come! Yes, he must save me. He will!” Yin Soul's voice crackled like thunder.

Then there was an echoing noise. Startled, like a tiny sparrow in the shadow of a hawk, Yin Soul froze and fell silent. His hunchbacked figure cast a crooked shadow on the bookshelves. The noise came again, louder and more insistent now: Caw! Caw! Caw!

”He comes, he comes,” Yin Soul muttered solemnly, rubbing his forelimbs slowly together as he prepared for the last deal-the ultimate trick, the meanest lie.

He closed his shriveled eyelids. He stood straight as the wind from the raven messenger fluttered his manteau. He waited for the thump of something dropped onto his carpet, and only then did he slowly turn around.

”Greetings, Maldeor.”

Maldeor picked himself up from his fall. ”Mentor, normally the wing potion gives me strength for a month of flying. Why am I here when only four days have pa.s.sed?”

”You must have worked hard, Maldeor, following your quest and ruling your empire at the same time. Ah, it must have put strain upon the magic of the potion...But toiling so hard, you have found many clues, have you not?” Yin Soul tucked the claws of his forewings into his manteau and inclined his head.

”Of course!” Maldeor said crisply. ”One clue I found from actual gemstones; one from you, Mentor, about Hero's Day. I learned more from a foolish toucan from Kauria.” His face glowed with venomous pleasure.

”But do you have them all?”

Maldeor's pale eyes turned brittle. ”I have something better than gems-I know where Kauria itself is.” He leaned forward. ”Give me the wing potion. I must depart for Kauria, and the flight will be a hard one.”

Yin Soul picked up the skull of a bird. In it sloshed the silvery draft. Maldeor almost s.n.a.t.c.hed it, he took it so fast. Head bent, he stretched out a leathery, freckled tongue and violently started lapping up the magic potion.

”You don't, do you!” Yin Soul advanced toward the archaeopteryx. Maldeor stopped drinking. ”You don't have all the clues to the sword.” Yin Soul shook his head. ”What are you going to do about that, Maldeor, eh? It would be a pity, getting so close, you know, so close! Then, losing it all.”

The archaeopteryx finished his draft. ”Are you saying that I'm a foolish hatchling with half an eggsh.e.l.l over my head? My wits are enough to cover the clues I don't have!” He was smiling dangerously, his eyes forming into triangular slits.

”You are clever, little emperor, but do you want to risk losing the sword?”

Maldeor flipped his bloodshot eyes up to Yin Soul. ”No,” he said slowly. ”What else can I do?”

It is time! I shall return to the living world soon! Yin Soul thought. ”Remember, Maldeor? Remember when I first met you and gave you your wing, I said that I would have an even better deal for you?” Yin Soul thought. ”Remember, Maldeor? Remember when I first met you and gave you your wing, I said that I would have an even better deal for you?”