Part 10 (2/2)
”Right now, the pain in my heart is far worse than that of my skin.” Stormac struggled to lift his eyes and look at Wind-voice. ”It's too late to regret, I know. It's strange, isn't it...when I finally realize I'm wrong, I'm miles astray. When I am eager to seize life, its end is here.” With a feeble cough, the warrior turned his head back and pecked at the knot on his necklace. ”Life's a battle...I've lost....”
”No...you've won, brilliantly,” Wind-voice whispered. He looked down in shock as Stormac held out the s.h.i.+ning red berry necklace to him. ”Stormac...”
”Take it, take it, please. Then I will always be with you...” Stormac paused and shuddered. ”All my life I keep making the same mistakes. Falling for the same temptations. Most of the time I knew beforehand that something was wrong...but I still did it. I...I will never know tomorrow.”
Wind-voice crouched lower at the myna's side, trying not to cry. The berry charm was heavy. It seemed to carry all the weight of the world. ”You'll be fine. Tomorrow will be better, brother.”
”Do you still regard me as your brother?”
”Yes, always, always.”
”Brother...tomorrow...” Stormac's eyes suddenly grew fixed on the setting sun. His beak opened rapidly twice, in two shallow breaths, and then he was still.
The seagulls dug a hole in the rocky turf big enough for Stormac's body. They stood in a row, white mourning sashes fluttering, as the myna was lowered into his grave. In the background, the wail of a traditional funeral tune sounded from a giant conch sh.e.l.l.
Wind-voice wished Winger were there to play his harp, or Fleydur were there to sing. Tears rolled down his cheeks. My brother forever My brother forever, he thought. Wind-voice felt utterly alone and chilled in the seawind.
When we suffer the worst hards.h.i.+ps, our destination may be just a step away.-FROM THE O OLD S SCRIPTURE
15.
THE B BATTLE OF THE I ICE P PALACE.
Your Majesty,” said Kawaka, thumping his claws on his chest, ”the ocean is in view.”
Maldeor gulped down a cup of the medicine for his toothache. He knew, despite the pain distracting him, that it was time to organize his notes. During the journey from Castlewood, he had written feverishly when ever they set up camp. All his observations, his thoughts, even his conversations with Yin Soul he scribbled down. He took out a carefully wrapped package, undid all the layers of linen, and smoothed each page of the stack of papers and notes inside. His eyes trailed over the words of wisdom Yin Soul had imparted to him. ”His words are deep and true. Maybe it would have been better if I had listened to him....” Maldeor whispered to himself. He shook his head, dismissing his doubts. He cut a piece of leather, wrapped it around the paper, and bit holes along the spine. After binding the pages securely with leather thongs, he caught up his quill, dipped it in gold ink, and scrawled on the cover: BOOK OF HERESY.
He paced up and down in his tent, waiting for the ink to dry. His sword, sheathed by his side, clanked as he restlessly moved about.
Thoughtfully he drew the sword and gazed fondly at the plain steel blade.
”You and I,” he cried in a theatrical voice, ”we have been faithful companions. But soon, I shall have another weapon. You have served me well.”
His eyes lit up as an idea popped into his head.
He spun around and scuttled to the other side of the tent, where a mirror was propped. Head swaying, drunk with moonlight and arrogance, he raised his sword high in the air and waved it.
”Hero, hero,” he proclaimed to the mirror, admiring the effect.
Then he sheathed the sword once more, picked up the Book of Heresy Book of Heresy, wrapped a layer of oilcloth around it, and flew off alone into the night. He would find a place to hide his book for safekeeping. He knew that if by any chance things went wrong on Kauria, his thoughts and ideas would survive him.
The island of the seagulls faded into the distance behind Wind-voice as he soared over the waves. All the clues he had gathered so far made no sense to him. Find flowers amid ice. Find flowers amid ice. But no plants thrived when winter sent snow and ice to cover the land. But no plants thrived when winter sent snow and ice to cover the land.
”Well, south to the glaciers is as good a guess as any,” he said to himself. Had he been mad to go on this quest, just as Stormac had told him? Had he been too unrealistic to think that he, a former slave, a fledgling with no living family and no tribe, could do anything to help the hero?
Stormac, maybe you were right, he thought as he flew. he thought as he flew. Maybe finding the gems is a wild errand. I'm sorry, so sorry, that I brought you with me. You'd still be alive if I hadn't... Maybe finding the gems is a wild errand. I'm sorry, so sorry, that I brought you with me. You'd still be alive if I hadn't...
Blinded by tears, he didn't notice the low, dark clouds swirling up over the horizon until suddenly he was engulfed in them. The wind that had been carrying him steadily along was suddenly uneven. Gusts blew up under his wings and tossed him from side to side.
The clouds ahead of Wind-voice seemed to take on a shape. He stared in astonishment as a bird made of black mist spread ghostly wings and raised its head, lifting a huge beak. For a moment, before the winds tore the figure apart, it had looked like the toucan, rising once more to break his chains.
Everything had seemed hopeless at that moment, too, when he'd been tied to that log in the river. Yet, somehow, he had survived. It would be foolish to give up now. He would keep trying.
I was named for the wind, Wind-voice thought. Wind-voice thought. I'll let the wind decide what to do. I'll let the wind decide what to do. He stiffened his wings, letting the wind take him where it would. The storm tossed and buffeted him but carried him gradually southwest. He stiffened his wings, letting the wind take him where it would. The storm tossed and buffeted him but carried him gradually southwest.
”Look at that, Fleydur!” Ewingerale cried. The two birds had been riding southward on the cold sea wind for two days now. ”On that island, a huge white iceberg!
”The old robin prophet predicted that there would be slas.h.i.+ng teeth and fluttering wings in the southern ocean. Did he mean that archaeopteryxes would come?”
Winger did a quick calculation. ”Today is Hero's Day. The archaeopteryx emperor is looking for the sword. Why would he be so frantic to come here? Unless he is scouring the four corners of the world, trying to find the strange gemstones fallen from the sky?”
When they reached the glacier, they found a penguin standing on the slope, about to jump into the ocean.
”We have urgent news for your tribe,” Fleydur cried. ”Something terrible may happen.”
”The archaeopteryxes, yes,” Ewingerale said. ”They are finally coming south.”
”Archaeopteryxes! Here!” The penguin gasped. He immediately led them inside a smooth, blue-white tunnel. Ice sculptures glistened at them from both sides.
They traveled through the sparkling corridors. Many penguins slid by, sometimes in adjoining tunnels, their black-and-white reflections contorted into mysterious shapes by the undulating ice walls. At last they were led to a huge penguin sitting on an ice ledge in a pale blue hall. She was introduced as Lady Gwendeleine, and Ewingerale told her the travails of their journey.
When he mentioned the gemstone, Lady Gwendeleine interrupted him.
”Gemstone-sky! How...I mean, how do you know about it?” Lady Gwendeleine was surprised.
”My own family had a strange faceted purple stone with carvings on it,” Fleydur confided to her. ”We knew from the start it was something special-it just appeared out of nowhere. I thought we were the only ones to have something like that. Our journeys over the last few months showed that a couple of other tribes spread out over the archaeopteryx territories have similar gems, only differently colored.”
”They've something to do with the legend of the hero, and the hero's sword!” Ewingerale said. ”The sword is in Kauria, Island of Paradise. Today is Hero's Day. If I'm guessing right, Maldeor will certainly be among the archaeopteryxes who shall head here.”
One penguin adviser wearing ice gla.s.ses spoke up. ”Perhaps the archaeopteryxes are heading for an island a bit north of us,” he informed the eagle and the woodp.e.c.k.e.r. ”It is a strange land hidden in the mists, which seems to move with the tide. Some time ago, when we swam to its sh.o.r.es, we were greeted by bright purple and green birds and given fruits to eat.”
”Yes, there is that island. Perhaps it is Kauria,” Lady Gwendeleine reflected. ”But they might be coming for something else, too, because we do do have a gemstone. It's pale blue.” She touched a panel of ice near her throne. The panel swung open to reveal a secret compartment. She took out a beautiful gemstone that seemed almost like a polished piece of ice. have a gemstone. It's pale blue.” She touched a panel of ice near her throne. The panel swung open to reveal a secret compartment. She took out a beautiful gemstone that seemed almost like a polished piece of ice.
”'Find the bird who flies through waters,'” Winger read. ”Kauria sounds more magical by the minute. If it's so difficult to find, the archaeopteryxes might mistake your island for Kauria. If they do, then we can take advantage of it. Certainly none of us wants the archaeopteryx emperor to get the sword. If we keep delaying Maldeor till Hero's Day is over, then he won't be able to stop the true hero from getting the sword.”
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