The rise of winter, p.8
The Rise of Winter, page 8
“Perhaps it will take a human to change the humans,” Pteron said from his upside-down perch.
“True,” called a small voice from the hummingbird’s stone. “We are all in agreement that something must change. Terra cannot go on like this. We have all felt Her weakening. But we must be careful. Arctos may be quick-tempered, but he is no fool. There is some truth to what he says. The girl will grow to be powerful, and if she turns out like her father, there will be no stopping her.”
“I have watched the girl grow since she was a child,” Scanda said. “There is much of Lillian and her mother in her. If we guide her growth, teach her the ways of the Terra Protectorum, she may be the one to turn the tides of fate that have risen against us. She may breathe new air into our skies and fill our lakes and rivers with clean water. She may help undo the doings of her kind. But without your help, she will not succeed. You must stand behind Terra’s decision and to do so, you must stand behind Winter.”
A few murmurs of agreement came from the other guardians.
“I ask you this: who will stand behind Winter?”
“I will,” said Vulpeera, jumping to her feet.
“As will I,” said Felinia.
“Me, me, me!” chirped the otter.
“The strength of the sky will back her,” said Catharia.
“As will its speed,” said the falcon.
“I will help in any way—large or small,” came the tiny voice of the hummingbird.
“I, for one, am honored to help Lillian’s grandchild,” said Pteron.
“The wisdom of the water will always do what is best for Terra,” said Cheelion in his slow drone.
“The ocean’s speed is here to serve,” said Isteel.
Scanda nodded. “Good, then we are in agreement.” She swiveled her head and looked down at me. “Winter, daughter of Gregor, there is much you have to learn, and in time it will all make sense. Terra is hurting and has called on you to aid Her. Even with the help of the Guardians, it will not be easy. There are many outside this circle who do not believe in the Guardians, dark creatures misguided by greed. For now, you will return home, where you will be safe under Lillian’s protection. There, you will be visited by each of the Guardians to begin your training.”
“And how do you propose we get her to Lillian?” called Isteel. “By now, Lupora and her pack will have surrounded the Cove. No doubt Arctos and Cano will have spread the word of the child’s selection. Many will be angry. It will not be safe to simply walk or swim her out of here.”
“Then she must be carried,” Scanda said, looking toward the Sky Guardians. “Catharia, can you lift her?”
The large bird puffed out her chest and lifted her sharp bill toward the sky. “She will be heavy,” said the condor, “but I can carry her. At least past the Red Woods.”
“Good. That will be far enough. Fantom will travel with you as your scout. Lupora has allies in the sky,” the owl said, and the falcon nodded its agreement. “Felinia can use her speed to follow on land and meet you past the Red Woods. From there, she will take Winter the rest of the way home.”
The cheetah looked up from where she’d been cleaning herself.
“Me?” she said.
“Yes, you,” Scanda said, turning her piercing yellow eyes toward her.
The cheetah’s expression showed her disgust. “You want me to run through the Red Woods, with all the cobwebs and vines and—”
“Yes,” Scanda repeated, her eyes glowing.
Felinia sighed. “Oh, alright.”
“I will go too,” Vulpeera said, stepping forward. “I may not be as fast as Felinia, but I can follow behind and keep up with Catharia.” She jumped from her stone and glided across the sand toward me, where I sat with my legs dangling over the edge of my stone, trying to rub the pain out of my hands. Vulpeera nuzzled up against my legs.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “You’ll be home soon.”
PART 2: THE FOREST
An old woman sits alone in her bedroom, a torn picture in her hand, wondering if things could have been different.
She cannot see the photograph; her eyes are sealed by deep scars, but she knows what the picture shows, and holding it in her hands reminds her of the day the image was captured.
A young man and woman stand at the top of a grassy hill. The man is behind the woman, his arms around her waist, his hands cradling her pregnant belly. Not far behind sit a bear and a fox.
“They were so happy then,” the woman reflects. “If only things could have turned out differently.”
She returns the picture to the dresser before walking to the open window, where she can hear the wind outside. The cicadas sing and a coyote howls. The world is alive, yet it is dying.
“Was I wrong to lie?” the woman asks herself. “Was it selfish? I should have known that Terra would come asking. If I had told the truth, might I have prevented so much harm? They were lies—yes—but is it wrong to lie to protect the ones we love?”
The woman sighs. She knows the answer.
All lies hurt.
But now the girl knows about her father.
She knows the truth.
Well … most of it.
Chapter 18
CATHARIA’S SHARP TALONS WERE SURPRISINGLY GENTLE AS SHE gripped me beneath my arms. The sand whirled around us as she beat her powerful wings, and for the second time that night, my feet were lifted from the ground.
The Cove became a small anthill below as we flew higher into the sky, an anthill whose dark outer walls crawled with dozens of prowling shadows.
Wolves, I thought, happy to be high above them.
Something whipped past my face and I shrieked in alarm.
“What was that?!”
It passed again, a single gust of wind like an arrow through the night.
On the third pass, the little gust slowed beside us; it was Fantom, the sleek falcon, cutting through the sky. His body was designed for speed, and he barely needed to beat his wings to keep up with us as he flew beneath Catharia’s wing. We circled the Cove once, waiting as Felinia and Vulpeera climbed to the top of the black wall, then nodded to let us know they were ready.
As we set off inland, I noticed one tree near the Cove with a particularly dense pack of wolves beneath it. There must have been twenty or thirty of them, and the ones nearest the trunk stood on their hind legs, looking up into the branches. The top of the tree was bowed like a fishing rod, and on a thin branch near the top sat a fat raccoon.
“Proctin!” I yelled. “Catharia, turn around! That tree over there, the one surrounded by wolves—do you see it? Proctin needs our help!”
Catharia continued flying as if she hadn’t heard me.
“Catharia! Please! My friend is in trouble!”
Catharia still didn’t respond.
“Fantom,” I said, appealing anxiously to the smaller bird. “Please, Fantom—can you go help him? He lives with me. We’re practically family.”
When it looked as if Fantom wasn’t going to help, either, I tried a different tactic.
“I thought Guardians were sworn to protect all Terra Creatura!” I said.
The falcon looked back at Proctin and then up at Catharia. Catharia must have nodded, because Fantom turned and disappeared behind us. Before I’d even had the chance to see where he’d gone, he was back, Proctin squirming in his talons as he hung by the scruff of his neck.
“Let me go, you dirty pigeon,” Proctin wailed, unsuccessfully trying to smack Fantom with his short arms.
“Good Terra, this thing must weigh as much as a walrus. And did he just call me a pigeon? Some thanks for rescuing him.”
“Rescuing me?” Proctin cried, indignant. “Who said anything about needing rescuing? I’ll have you know I was preparing a frontal assault on those drooling fleabags when you came along.”
“A frontal assault?” Fantom laughed. “Looked more like hiding in a tree.”
“I was breaking them down mentally, birdbrain. Something you wouldn’t understand.”
“The only thing breaking was that branch. You must be the fattest creature in all of Terra Creatura. Are you sure you’re a raccoon?”
“Of course I’m a raccoon, you imbecile. Now, unhand me.”
Fantom let go with one talon, and Proctin shrieked. “No, no, no, not up here! Not up here! I don’t fly well!”
“Proctin,” I called, “over here! I asked Fantom to help you.”
Proctin lifted his head and looked at me. His giant belly hung down like a leaf filled with rain.
“Winter!” he cried. “Am I glad to see you!”
“And I’m glad you’re still in one piece! Catharia and Fantom are taking us home. We’ll be there soon!”
The word “home” had never sounded so sweet.
Proctin looked equally excited. “Oh, home!” he squealed. “I can smell my sweet, sweet garbage bin already! In that case, faster, birdbrain! Faster!”
Fantom didn’t seem altogether pleased, but he grabbed Proctin with both talons and continued on, leading us away from the Cove.
IT WAS A relatively clear night, with only a few clouds scattered beneath the grey sky. Below us, the ground was a blur—partly because we were so high up, and partly because my eyes were starting to close.
You’d think it would be impossible to fall asleep dangling thirty metres above the ground in a condor’s talons, but after the night I’d had, I could have fallen asleep in a rosebush. Between the rhythmic sound of beating wings and the rushing air, I closed my eyes and was asleep before I knew it.
When I awoke, the sun was rising, and green hills whizzed by below. I didn’t know where we were, but I recognized the mountains to my left. They told me we were heading in the right direction. They told me we were heading home.
“It’s not fat; it’s storage!” a voice said behind me. Proctin and Fantom were twenty feet back, arguing.
“Storage for what?” Fantom asked.
“A famine.”
“I wasn’t under the impression there was a famine.”
“Not now, birdbrain. In case there is a famine. It’s called preparation. Look, there’s a reason you’re not the Sky Guardian of Wisdom, and I’m living with a human. Leave the thinking to me.”
Fantom laughed. “You? As smart as a human? I bet you couldn’t even tell me how many toes are on your feet.”
“I can so!” Proctin scoffed.
“Alright then … ?”
Proctin hesitated. He lifted his feet to count his toes, but his belly was in the way. He lifted his belly, but couldn’t stretch his toes far enough to see them. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Well?” Fantom prodded.
Proctin let go of his belly and concentrated. He concentrated so hard his whole face wrinkled and his eyes closed. For a moment, I thought he might pass out from concentrating so hard when suddenly, he did.
His body went limp and his head slumped forward. “I can’t answer right now,” he said. “I’ve fallen asleep.”
Fantom looked down at him with a perplexed expression. “You’ve fallen asleep?”
“That’s right,” Proctin said, his head hanging. “Haven’t you seen anyone sleep before? Now leave me alone.”
“You don’t look like you’re asleep. And you’re talking.”
“It’s called sleep-talking.”
Fantom looked more confused than ever but didn’t press it. For a while we flew on, Proctin doing a very poor job of pretending to be asleep, Fantom looking baffled, me enjoying the scenery.
It was a perfect day for flying. The sun was warm, the breeze gentle, and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Well, at least not one nearby. A single, dark storm cloud hung over a distant mountain, but I paid it no mind. It was too far away to bother us and besides, I was enjoying the way our shadows danced over the hills and fields below.
I looked closer. One of the shadows had a funny way of moving very quickly, then stopping, waiting for the other shadow to catch up before moving on. That didn’t make sense—Fantom and Catharia were flying at a steady pace.
I squinted. When the faster shadow stopped to wait for the other to catch up, I saw a distinct yellow sheen and realized the shadow was Felinia, the cheetah. She ran in spurts, then waited for Vulpeera to catch up. I smiled, watching the fox and cheetah prance over the foothills and fields and …
“Catharia, what’s that?” I asked.
Vulpeera and Felinia had stopped in front of a wide path of dirt—like a scar across the landscape. It reminded me of a riverbed without water, but far more regular in shape.
Catharia made a noise not unlike a grunt. “You should know,” she said. “It’s your kind’s creation.”
I thought about this for a moment. Why would we make a path of dirt in the middle of nowhere? Why clear all the trees and rocks? It appeared to be heading straight toward the mountains.
“The roadway!” I exclaimed, the answer dawning on me. “They’re extending the roadway! The Society is building a giant path called a road. It’s for cars to drive on. They’ve connected almost all the major cities of Nacadia, and it’s made travelling much easier.”
“Easier!” Catharia scoffed. “Perhaps for your species! For the rest of us it, has made travelling decidedly more difficult. Homes have been destroyed, migratory paths cut off, animals have been killed trying to cross your so-called roadway. It’s an ugly gash through Terra and not one I’d take pride in.” She shook her powerful head and I felt myself shrink inside.
An awkward silence ensued before Fantom flew up beside us and whispered in an urgent tone, “They’re tracking us.”
Catharia nodded in agreement.
I followed Fantom’s gaze to the mountains. The storm cloud I’d seen earlier had tripled in size and appeared to be much closer. Not only that, it seemed to be growing, a large spout of black smoke pouring from the mountain like a chimney.
Smoke. No, not smoke. Smoke didn’t move like that …
Smoke didn’t follow people.
Chapter 19
THE DARK CLOUD’S SHAPE SHIFTED AS IT MOVED TOWARD US.
“I don’t think we can outfly them with this load, and we can’t use our talons to fight them off, either,” Fantom said. “I could jettison some weight and try to head them off.”
Proctin yelped, but Catharia shook her head.
“It won’t do any good,” she said. “There are thousands of them. Head for the Red Woods—the trees will provide shelter for the girl.”
The ground below had changed from grassy fields to a grey, gravelly dirt leading toward a large forest. The trees grew thick and dark, but the trunks glowed red in the morning sun.
Catharia and Fantom’s wings beat faster as they sped toward the forest, but even with our increased speed, the cloud continued to gain. A shrill cawing sound grew louder as it neared, reminding me of the seagulls on Pitchi. I craned my neck for a better look. The cloud was no more than a hundred metres behind—it wasn’t smoke, but an enormous murder of crows. Thousands, Catharia had estimated, and she was probably right.
“Why are the crows after us?” I asked, panicked.
“They follow the Dark Queen,” Catharia said.
“The Dark Queen?”
“It’s the name Lupora has given herself. The Red Woods are her domain and she has long hated the Guardians.”
“Why?”
“Call it something of a grudge against Terra,” Catharia said. “Lupora wants only one thing—power—and she resents that the wolves do not have a throne in the Cove. There are many that now side with her against the Guardians. They call themselves the dark creatures.”
“But why would they side against us? Don’t we protect all of Terra Creatura?”
“Yes, we do, but Terra Creatura is fractured. There is a growing distrust of the Guardians, and it’s not hard to see why. We have weakened, and have been without a leader for years. Combine this with the fact that you humans have a throne in the Cove, and you have their reasons for doubting our goodwill.”
Our conversation was growing difficult. The growing sound of cawing and fluttering wings drowned out our voices.
“Dive,” Catharia said, and she and Fantom dropped lower as the first of the crows nipped at my heels.
It worked for a moment; the crows were slow to respond, but soon they moved above us like a giant thunderhead. We were trapped.
I looked up just as the birds dropped, surrounding us like smog so all I could see was black feathers and beaks. I shielded my face with my hands, but it was no use—talons scraped at my arms and yanked at my hair. I tried to yell but got a mouthful of feathers instead.
Catharia thrashed wildly with her beak, grabbing crow after crow and tossing them aside to drop limply below. But it wasn’t enough—every crow she crushed was replaced by another five.
“To the woods!” Fantom shouted as Proctin yelped.
We dropped again, now only twenty feet from the ground. I had a moment to breathe and see the forest ahead—it was close—but the crows descended quickly, blocking my view. I kicked and batted, but it was like running through a wall of stinging nettle. A feeling I recognized from the Cove formed in my chest—a deep, burning sensation.
Not now, I thought, not with Catharia holding my arms.
I tried to fight the sensation, to stop it from spreading into my arms and hands, but the heat grew despite my effort. It grew until I felt ready to burst. My hands glowed a faint yellow and I was certain they were going to erupt. I screamed, trying to fight it, when suddenly Catharia’s talons released my arms. I dropped through the air and the heat left me as I fell.
I knocked against feathered bodies as I plummeted to the ground, hitting it sooner than expected and rolling between two large tree trunks. Catharia dropped beside me, closing her wings at the last second to fit between the trees, and disappearing into the woods beyond.
