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"You're right. We will distract them so that they will lose track of time. We will create a diversion with feast and song," Lady Gwendeleine said.
Ewingerale's eyes twinkled as he whispered more ideas to the penguins, who nodded in agreement.
"My lady!" A small penguin suddenly slid into view from a tunnel hidden in the ice and got up to salute. An ice telescope was hung around his neck. "We have sighted them, coming in a straight course!"
The advancing archaeopteryx army, in full glory, swept across the sky in one huge V. Maldeor made sure the tip of this deadly avian arrowhead pointed southeast. He was headed toward Kauria. Perched on his great kite, Maldeor was protected inside the V. He frowned at a dark gray ma.s.s in the western sky. The air current became b.u.mpier and b.u.mpier.
Then, all of a sudden, a huge white streak split the sky ahead. A terrible wind rippled the archaeopteryx ranks. Maldeor's carriage bucked like a living thing. Gripping the bamboo frame tightly with his claws, his cloak flapping madly like extra wings, he screeched, "Careful! Careful! Veer a little east and avoid the storm!" Thunder rumbled. Raindrops the size of grapes pelted them.
Maldeor uncurled a whip and snapped it above the bodies of the twelve geese pulling his carriage. "Faster, faster! If we get too wet, we'll fall down!" A goose on the left could not keep up with the rest and was dropping alt.i.tude from fatigue. Growling, Maldeor leaned forward and cut off the leather harness from the faltering slave. The goose plummeted down and disappeared in a white circle of foam.
Without the drag, Maldeor's carriage moved faster. He waved his dripping wings in the air. "Don't let the lightning strike us!"
It's never wise to battle with the army of nature. The archaeopteryxes drifted about like a tattered group of beggars. Once the storm had pa.s.sed, they continued on south, faster than ever, trying to make up for lost time. They did not realize that they had missed Kauria altogether. While his feathers dried, Maldeor peered through a telescope. "Look, there's Kauria!" he cried to Kawaka, his toothache temporarily forgotten as his confidence returned. He pointed to a huge white iceberg. "Direct the army to it!"
"The clue said, 'Find flowers amid ice.' There's ice on the island, but no flowers anywhere!" a scholar flying nearby protested.
"Fool! Can't you see that the clue is a literary metaphor? That huge iceberg looks just like a white water lily. Of course course this is Kauria. Onward!" he yelled triumphantly. this is Kauria. Onward!" he yelled triumphantly.
When the archaeopteryx army arrived above the island, Maldeor ordered guards to span overhead so that any other bird coming to find the sword would be stopped and killed. He, the geese, and the rest of his army landed. They folded up the carriage.
"Welcome to our island," a penguin said, greeting him. "Come in!"
Maldeor followed him, gaping at the intricacy he saw all around him. Though he was familiar with riches and luxury, the mysterious splendor here was a sight to see. Some walls were so thin they were like gla.s.s, while others let only a blue s.h.i.+mmering light filter through.
"This is indeed like paradise!" he exclaimed as he slid along the corridors. He grinned with delight when the penguin bowed and gestured for them to come into a low, wide hall. "What hospitality! A feast!"
Scallops and clams were arranged in circles around heaps of pinkish krill. There was s.h.i.+ning black fish roe and diced mackerel, shrimp, and seaweed. A huge silvery fish, the catch of the day, lay on a platter. Two penguins on either side were busy at work, using an ice saw to slice off succulent steaks. The centerpiece, a speckled red starfish, was the most eye-catching of all.
Most of the archaeopteryxes dug in eagerly, but Maldeor ate little because he kept thinking of the sword. "Thank you for all this," he said politely to Lady Gwendeleine. "I was wondering, perhaps, if you might show me the hero's sword?"
"Which one do you mean? We have many. But a long way you've come! After you've eaten and rested, we'll show you around."
Maldeor did not argue. He knew that he and his soldiers were in bad shape after their exhausting journey. He held an ice shard against his cheek to ease the pain of his toothache. All through the feast, while his soldiers buried their faces in their plates, he stole glances at the corners and the tunnels. Where is the phoenix, Pepheroh? Where are the other toucans? Where is the phoenix, Pepheroh? Where are the other toucans? Then he caught sight of Ewingerale and Fleydur. Then he caught sight of Ewingerale and Fleydur. What! Why are a woodp.e.c.k.e.r and an eagle here? Are they also trying to find the sword? The eagle looks tough. What! Why are a woodp.e.c.k.e.r and an eagle here? Are they also trying to find the sword? The eagle looks tough.
Maldeor signaled to one of his knights to keep an eye on the two. But then...maybe they actually But then...maybe they actually do do live on this cold island. It's magical. Perhaps the phoenix and the rest are hidden somewhere. Perhaps this is a test. live on this cold island. It's magical. Perhaps the phoenix and the rest are hidden somewhere. Perhaps this is a test.
After the feast, the penguins gave a concert on their ice xylophones. Maldeor continued to worry. Today was Hero's Day. The atmosphere was pleasant enough, but the weather was too cold for an archaeopteryx. If he could get the sword immediately, he would fly back to warmer lands.
When the last music piece ended, Maldeor strode fretfully up to Lady Gwendeleine. "Lady, would you be so kind as to show me your swords now?"
With Winger at her side, Gwendeleine nodded. "Come and bring the special swords," she called into the empty tunnels, as planned. There was a soft pattering of feet on ice as stocky penguins entered, balancing weaponry on cus.h.i.+ons on their toes. Each bowed courteously and asked Maldeor, "Sir, is this it?"
Besides steel and iron swords, there were even ones made of ice. After inspecting twenty of them, he started to feel foolish and angry. Yin Soul had hinted that the magical sword had the eighth gemstone on its hilt. None of the swords here had a gemstone anywhere. There's something behind this, There's something behind this, he thought, narrowing his eyes. Something wasn't right. Again his doubts clouded his mind, and then quickly he formed a plan. he thought, narrowing his eyes. Something wasn't right. Again his doubts clouded his mind, and then quickly he formed a plan.
He turned around and smiled pleasantly at a penguin scholar. "It seems you have guests here? There's a woodp.e.c.k.e.r and an eagle."
"Yes, sometimes birds come and go. Seabirds are the majority," said the penguin scholar.
"I can see why. It's so beautiful here. Even the toucans would want to come."
The penguin scholar beamed. "I sure hope they would! They're neighbors, after all."
Too late, the penguin realized his mistake.
The feathers on Maldeor's face all rose on end, and his eyes squeezed into ugly slits. First my shriveling wing, then my toothache, now this! First my shriveling wing, then my toothache, now this! he thought. "You tricked me! You're trying to delay me further!" He seized the penguin scholar by the scruff of his neck, holding the end of his sword against the penguin's forehead. "You know where it really is. Tell me, which direction?" he thought. "You tricked me! You're trying to delay me further!" He seized the penguin scholar by the scruff of his neck, holding the end of his sword against the penguin's forehead. "You know where it really is. Tell me, which direction?"
"It's not...I..."
"Tell me!" Maldeor bellowed. The sword point shook. Blood seeped out of a cut between the penguin's eyes.
"How dare you!" Lady Gwendeleine raised a flipper-like wing. "Release the scholar. Stop!"
Maldeor seized the scholar even tighter and ordered his soldiers to charge the penguins.
Only now did he realize how low the ceiling was. He could not fly. His troops charged as best as they could, staggering and slipping on the ice, but Maldeor could tell they were too full to be in good shape for battle.
The penguins grabbed the heavy ice plates. They hurled them like discuses into the ranks of the charging knights, then turned around and ran into the tunnels.
"Kill them! Kill them!" Maldeor commanded. His soldiers blundered together in a heavy ma.s.s as they chased after the penguins in the tunnels. The ice floor collapsed beneath their weight. Screaming, they disappeared as the black ocean closed over their heads.
When the remaining soggy troops finally drove the penguins into the wide hall of the throne room, penguins kept popping in and out of the tunnels, agile and quick. They ducked blows so that the swords of the archaeopteryxes hacked onto the ice pillars instead.
"Be careful! No!" yelled Maldeor, but it was too late. The damaged pillars wobbled and collapsed. Whole icicles fell down, and the ceiling caved in. What had been beautiful was now deadly. A chilling tune filled the room as the ice fell onto the floor. The archaeopteryxes were trapped. Seeing Maldeor distracted, the penguin scholar wriggled from his grasp and escaped.
"This is a trap, a trick!" Maldeor shouted to his soldiers as wind from the sky blew upon them from a gaping hole in the roof. He hurriedly a.s.sembled his carriage and harnessed the geese. "Upward! Upward! Don't waste time fighting the penguins! Upward and northward, to Kauria immediately!" His knights and soldiers abandoned the fighting and hurried to follow him. Soon, the remaining archaeopteryxes and the geese were on the move again.
"They're going to Kauria. We must try to stop them!" Winger cried to Fleydur.
Gwendeleine nodded. "But they shall not be speedy. The food in their bellies will drag them down, and the water on their wings will stiffen. Their wings will feel like lead. There seems to be some fog gathering too. Hurry and you may fly ahead of them yet! Farewell, my friends. Thank you and good luck! Without you, many penguins might not be alive now!"
"Farewell! Keep your gemstone safe!" the eagle and the woodp.e.c.k.e.r cried back. Then, swinging up into the fog, the two birds flew north.
Wind-voice wasn't sure how far the wind had carried him. For the last several minutes he had been flying through a bundle of fog so thick he could not see the water below him or the dying evening sun ahead. But now the mist was thinning around him. He broke through the last few shreds of cloud to find himself over a sea that seemed endless, sprinkled with icy white islands. Far away, in the blue-black water, his eye caught a glimpse of green.
Yet there was something bright, much closer-two birds, one large, one small, flying furiously as they broke free of another thick band of fog not far away. The smaller bird had a bright red head. Wind-voice heard, very faintly, the chiming of bells.
The sun dazzled Fleydur's and Winger's eyes as they dove through the last clinging shreds of fog. They hovered for a moment, trying to get their bearings. Winger blinked as something white flashed against the background of darkening evening sky. He gasped.
"I'm so glad you're alive!" Winger shouted as the three friends fluttered around one another in midair. Delight and astonishment were close to making them dizzy.
Wind-voice seemed larger than the woodp.e.c.k.e.r had remembered. Fleydur swooped around, his bells jangling joyfully.
"Where is Stormac?" Winger suddenly whispered, though he understood at once when he saw the strawberry charm around Wind-voice's neck. They hovered still, in the air. In a trembling voice Wind-voice told the sad tale. He slowly took off the charm and held it out to Winger.
The woodp.e.c.k.e.r reached out his bamboolike claws and touched the wooden berry delicately. Two s.h.i.+ning pearls of tears spilled down his face and onto the worn red wood. His eyes stared at the sea below.
"We've come this far, with a sea storm lifting our wings. We've traveled over desert, forest, ocean, with a storm of purpose and worry giving us determination. Pray, where is our own storm, to lift our hearts?" Then he recited softly,
O ye great pounding waves Of this sorrowful sea How much of thee Are tears?
He sniffed and nodded his head jerkily, then handed the berry back to Wind-voice.
Fleydur bowed his head. Without a word, he took out a small sack. From it he scooped out the last of the tinsel stars that Stormac had loved so much.
He tossed them into the sky. "Stormac!" he bellowed. The silvery stars looked magical as they s.h.i.+mmered and scattered in the wind. "A valiant warrior. A valiant death."
"Stormac!" Wind-voice stared at the sparkles. He felt the grief shake him all over again. "It was at the island where he died that I found a clue from an alliance of seabirds: 'Find flowers amid ice.' Fleydur, we met your tribe, too. 'Look into the eyes to choose your path,' that's their clue."
"My family!" Fleydur looked scared and excited at the same time. He could find no other words to say.
"Wind-voice, we also found two other gems!" Winger exclaimed. "The robin's ruby said, 'What you love most is the key.' The penguins have a light blue Leasorn. It says, 'Find the bird who flies through waters.'"
Wind-voice shook his head. "They must point to the sword. But I don't understand what they mean."
"The penguins told us that there's an island with green nearby," Fleydur said. "It's probably Kauria. We must take to our wings. The archaeopteryxes might have spotted it already. We can't stay here any longer."
The three friends stretched their wings and headed for Kauria.
Before long, Ewingerale was faltering. His wings ached with each beat. Wind-voice flew up under him. "Rest on my back a few minutes," he murmured.
"You're tired too," Winger whispered. "You can't carry me."
"I can do it." Wind-voice caught up to Fleydur. The two tried to fly steadily. Winger could feel the body heat of Wind-voice as his friend silently strained. The wind blew in their faces, pelting them with tiny, sharp flakes of ice and swirling a mist around them. Whiteness blotted out the world for a moment. When it cleared, Winger let out a sharp cry. "An army ahead of us!"
He pointed at a moving ma.s.s. The wind had seized a banner that a bird in the vanguard was carrying. It was blue in the darkening sky, and on it was a mountain peak and a black cloud split by a lightning bolt.
"Skythunder," Fleydur cried, astonished.
"It's your brother!" Wind-voice exclaimed. "It's Forlath. He said he'd bring help." He peered more closely at the far-off ma.s.s of birds and made out flashes of color-the bright red wings of parrots, and white and gray that might be seagulls. Did he even catch a glimpse of a heron's long yellow legs?
"But how-" Fleydur said. "But why-"
"No time now!" shouted Wind-voice. Behind them, the archaeopteryx army broke out of a cloud and flapped closer. Wind-voice realized the enemy had spotted them and had changed course to intercept them. He and his companions would be trapped. But from the ma.s.s of gray archaeopteryx feathers and bright steel, a single bird pointed a sword, not toward Forlath's army, but toward something that had been obscured by a stray layer of mist that hung over the sea.
"Maldeor." Wind-voice shuddered.
What separates a hero from a villain?
Now I understand.-FROM "E "EWINGERALE'S D DIARY," IN THE O OLD S SCRIPTURE
16.
CROSSING S SWORDS.
The woodp.e.c.k.e.r and the eagle! No, eagles..." Maldeor crouched on the edge of his carriage, ready to launch himself. He turned to Kawaka. "Those sniveling Skythunder hook-beaks have finally come out of hiding. Ha, golden eagles fighting over water! Ridiculous. Sir Kawaka, attack them!"
Maldeor gargled one last beakful of medicine and leaped down.
All around, the two armies clashed together in one turbulent cloud that rained feathers and blood. Before Maldeor could fly farther, an arrow fell toward him. It went right through his magical wing, but the vaporous wing did not seem to heal as quickly.
He looked back. Ewingerale, Fleydur, and Wind-voice surrounded him. "Not dead? Not blind?" Maldeor gasped at the sight of Wind-voice, who was much bigger than before. Calm down, Maldeor, Calm down, Maldeor, he said silently to himself. he said silently to himself. Fight the weakest one first, and get rid of them one by one. Fight the weakest one first, and get rid of them one by one. Maldeor swung his sword at Ewingerale. Within a few moves, the woodp.e.c.k.e.r tumbled, and the first gust of wind sent him falling. Maldeor swung his sword at Ewingerale. Within a few moves, the woodp.e.c.k.e.r tumbled, and the first gust of wind sent him falling. The eagle next, The eagle next, Maldeor thought, and turned. Maldeor thought, and turned.
Wind-voice dived down to rescue Winger. "I'm all right," the woodp.e.c.k.e.r murmured.
"Fleydur, come here and help!" Wind-voice shouted, but when he looked back, he saw the eagle veering in a circle, defeated by Maldeor as well.
"Now you!" Maldeor cried. "One on one."
Fleydur recovered and went to tend Winger while Wind-voice rose up in the air to face his enemy. What? He's much more skilled than he seems...I can't waste time parrying him when there's only a few hours left to Hero's Day. What? He's much more skilled than he seems...I can't waste time parrying him when there's only a few hours left to Hero's Day. Maldeor abruptly turned and dove down toward the shroud of mist. Maldeor abruptly turned and dove down toward the shroud of mist.
"No!" Wind-voice cried. I must stop him. I must stop him. He followed where Maldeor had gone. The mist swallowed him. "So this is Kauria," he said to himself as an island, sandy yellow and fringed with green, appeared below. He followed where Maldeor had gone. The mist swallowed him. "So this is Kauria," he said to himself as an island, sandy yellow and fringed with green, appeared below. Find flowers amid ice, Find flowers amid ice, Wind-voice thought. This was what the first clue had meant. Wind-voice thought. This was what the first clue had meant.
Wind-voice swooped lower. The island was bird-shaped. Long sandy beaches stretched out on either side; it looked as if the bird were soaring through the dark blue ocean. Find the bird who flies through waters. Find the bird who flies through waters. The gems indeed held the clues he needed. "Oh, Stormac," he whispered, thinking of the skeptical myna. "You should be here to see this." The gems indeed held the clues he needed. "Oh, Stormac," he whispered, thinking of the skeptical myna. "You should be here to see this."
The sea wind swept him inland. A clue suddenly leaped into his mind. The eye of the bird sees your wish. The eye of the bird sees your wish. He aimed for the part of the island shaped like a bird's head. A steep gray cliff formed the beak. He hovered toward where the bird's eye should be. Suddenly a pyramid appeared there magically, in the middle of the sandy waste. He aimed for the part of the island shaped like a bird's head. A steep gray cliff formed the beak. He hovered toward where the bird's eye should be. Suddenly a pyramid appeared there magically, in the middle of the sandy waste.
Wind-voice felt all the feathers on his neck rise. He charged at a small gate set in the side of the pyramid just in time to see a tail, gray and feathered, disappear inside.