Part 9 (1/2)

In his courtyard, a wild-looking structure was being a.s.sembled by sawdust-covered carpenters. It was shaped like a kite, with tough canvas stretched over a bamboo frame. There was a hollow in the very center, where Maldeor would ride.

”Your Majesty, we've gotten a dozen st.u.r.dy goose slaves to pull your carriage.”

”Harness them immediately! We go tonight!” I will outsmart you, Yin Soul! I will outsmart you, Yin Soul! Maldeor thought as he drank more of the medicine. Maldeor thought as he drank more of the medicine. I shall be the hero! I shall be the hero!

Many harmful things in life are seductively beautiful, like poisonous mushrooms.-FROM THE O OLD S SCRIPTURE

13.

TREASURE C CAVE.

Robins hovered above a huge tapestry laid flat on the ground. The design of yin and yang looked like two huge white and black tadpoles swimming together, encircled by orderly lines. It was a surprising sight.

”I knew you would come,” the old robin said evenly as he held the sparkling red Leasorn. ”Some say I have the gift of foresight. When I go up the White Cap Mountains and perch in the mysterious fog, I see snippets of present, past, future...and these, along with the yin and yang, reveal things to me.” He shook a clawful of polished maple wood sticks. ”I saw the two of you flying over the ocean, which is why we came to meet you today. We cannot thank you enough. Your places are in the mountains and woods, yet you risked your life to make the treacherous journey across the water to return this to us. This devotion, this virtue, sadly, is rare now. If you are not heroes, who else can be?”

”Sir.” Fleydur bowed. ”We are only following the ways of our hearts: The true ways of a bird.”

”If you can see sparks of the future...” Ewingerale began but faltered when he realized everybird was listening. Then he said boldly, ”I was wondering if...you happened to see a myna, stout, with a staff and a wooden berry strung around his neck...Or maybe”-Ewingerale exchanged looks with the eagle-”a white dovelike bird?”

Everybird quieted as the robin flung his sticks onto the tapestry below. He flew around and around the yin and yang, his maple-leaf headdress rustling, for what seemed like an eternity. ”Go south,” he whispered as he orbited, seemingly not at all conscious of the woodp.e.c.k.e.r's question. ”Go south, where icebergs float, where ice storms whirl. You are needed there, before Hero's Day, when the hero will claim the sword. Danger is coming. There will be slas.h.i.+ng teeth and fluttering wings over the ocean. Look for a special current in the sea. The air above it will carry you. Quickly, before it is too late.”

As afternoon came on, Wind-voice and Stormac, after flying all day, finally pa.s.sed over the southernmost tip of the land, Cape Beak, and flew toward the sea. An archipelago of tiny cays and coral reefs dotted the waters below. It seemed to the two travelers that somebird had scattered stars on the water.

”You want to prevent Maldeor from getting the hero's sword, but tell me, how many birds out there are like him, evil and wanting to become a hero?” Stormac said suddenly as the vastness of the ocean sent a foreboding chill down him. ”How can you prevent them all?”

”I want to do what I can. It's better than watching those cruel birds and doing nothing. If we lead the way, others might stop other wrongdoers.” Above them, huge clouds that looked like fluffy white versions of the Skythunder Mountains were suspended in the air. Wind-voice gazed at them dreamily. ”Then someday the whole world will be peaceful.”

”But it's a hard, hard thing,” Stormac grumbled. ”Becoming a hero myself is easier than flapping around hampering the bad birds.”

”I hope that you will become a hero someday,” Wind-voice said.

The clouds turned dark gray. Eyeing them warily, the two exhausted birds looked around for a place to rest. Suddenly a cloud s.h.i.+fted in the distance, and in the open stretch of sky they saw a spectacular mansion of exotic trees right by a clear fountain.

”Wow! The birds there must be so rich!” Stormac yelled. He rowed his wings with renewed vigor, adjusting his direction so that he headed straight for the mansion. ”I can't wait to get there!”

”It seems like a mirage, Stormac,” Wind-voice said doubtfully. Sure enough, as they neared the mansion it disappeared. The two flew more slowly now, feeling more tired than ever. Now the sky was turning dark pea green.

Wind-voice caught sight of a young gull in the distance. He called to him, ”Where can we find an island big enough for us weary travelers to rest?”

The young bird flew up to greet them. ”My tribe lives on an island not far away.” He had a harpoon in his claws.

The two birds gladly followed the gull, but the mighty wind was treacherous. Whenever they tried to double their speed, it blew more savagely, enough to make them feel as if they were not making progress, or even slipping backward. The sea below churned and churned. They could hear the waves cras.h.i.+ng and the foam hissing. What was frightening, however, was that they could see none of it, as the rain clouds above deposited what seemed like an ocean's worth of water upon them.

”It's storm season,” explained the gull over the wails and howls of the wind. ”Do be careful!”

”I don't think we can fly against this wind for much longer,” Stormac cried.

”There!” Wind-voice yelled, spotting something on one of the islands. ”It looks like a cave!”

”You're right!”

The gull squinted at the blurry dark shape and called to them, ”I've seen it from a distance before, but I've never been inside. Still, anywhere is better than being out in the weather now!”

”Quick!” Stormac called. They landed just inside the cave, exhausted and wet. The air was damp and warm, but there was a faint smell of metal and drying seaweed. They all edged backward out of the wind.

Of the three, Stormac disliked water the most. He backed into the cave as fast as possible, but suddenly he stopped. A sharp, painful p.r.i.c.k on his spine sent s.h.i.+vers through him. Was that the knife of an enemy who had slyly waited for this chance to kill them all when they were vulnerable? He stiffened. His blood went cold, colder than the freezing seawater.

With his heart throbbing, he jerked out his staff and whirled around.

”Stop where you are!” he shouted at the darkness.

There was a faint hiss as Wind-voice lit a match. The quivering circle of light fell upon the enemy.

With a gasp, Stormac dropped his staff and stumbled, sitting down hard. The other birds stared.

The enemy was a grinning gold statue of a merry little bird holding silver flowers, gemstones embedded in the center of each blossom. Its ”sword” was only a long, protruding leaf in the metal bouquet.

They looked at one another and found themselves all tensed as if ready to fight. Stormac started to laugh.

”Just a statue!” he t.i.ttered, rubbing the sore spot on his back. ”Oh my! Getting all upset over this little dancing bird with the flowers.”

But the gull said, ”Look!” and Wind-voice lit a second match.

Beyond the statue, in big piles, were coins and bars of gold and silver; strings of pearls; necklaces of rubies, emeralds, and sapphires; rings of diamonds, opals, and amber; bracelets of jade, turquoise, and crystal. They sparkled with a dangerous glimmer in the match's light.

They all noticed a deep blue stone, faceted and faintly glowing, a little ways off. Wind-voice hopped over and picked the gem up. He turned it over, finding markings.

”What! It's the sacred gemstone that was stolen from my tribesbirds and friends!” From behind Wind-voice, the gull's voice grew shrill. ”I'm flabbergasted!”

They peered at it silently. Another gem with a clue, Another gem with a clue, thought Wind-voice. He tried to read it, but his matches were spent and the light was too dim. thought Wind-voice. He tried to read it, but his matches were spent and the light was too dim.

The pieces of the stand for the gemstone are here, too!” The seagull collected scattered pieces of coral and started rea.s.sembling them. Wind-voice and Stormac roused themselves and helped as well. As Wind-voice wandered over near one wall, Stormac and the gull looked near the other. Suddenly a great sparkle caught the myna's eye. It was a piece of carved red crystal, and it was shaped like a strawberry. Stormac lifted the crystal strawberry up and compared it side by side with the wooden strawberry around his neck. His eyes grew wider when he saw how similar they were. Surely a crystal pendant was better to wear than a flimsy wooden one. ”Is this your tribe's?” he asked the gull, who shook his head.

”We'll go to your tribe and return the gem tomorrow, after the weather breaks,” Wind-voice was saying.

The gull nodded. The gem's stand was a.s.sembled now and held the gem. ”But Great Spirit!” he whispered, and s.h.i.+vered. He shuffled his webbed feet, edging toward the cave's entrance, away from the horde of valuables. ”To think that we are to spend the night with this.”

Stormac's big eyes reflected the glow of the treasure, and he murmured, ”But that's silver! That's gold! Look, all sorts of trinkets! What riches! They would last lifetimes.” He also thought again of the crystal strawberry.