A Flight of Raptors

by Ralph Vaughan

  Levi waited, cocking his head inquisitively.

  “You are not incorrect,” Pallas admitted. “Go on.”

  “With your nature more clear to me, I saw your reference to The Two in a different light,” Levi explained. “Huginn and Muninn are the names by which those Ravens of yore went, but they were also known as Thought and Memory, and their purpose was to fly all about Midgard and bring information back to one-eyed Odin. They were, of course, telepathic, and the traditions that have come down to your tribes from those primal Ravens are the source of what I termed – and I apologize for doing so – ‘mind tricks.’ I should have referred to them as ‘special talents,’ for special they are indeed.”

  “How can you know all that?” Pallas demanded. “Our brother birds are ignorant of our ‘special talents.’ How can you – a groundling dog – know of them?”

  “Simple observation and deduction,” Levi explained. “Once I determined your purpose was not truly what you stated, then I began to look deeper, watching your actions and reactions, as well as your interactions with each other, and began to eliminate possibilities, one by one. Thus, once everything else had been eliminated, whatever remained, no matter how incredible, had to be the truth. Hence, Ravens move as one because they have something of a group consciousness, which, while it may also be found, in rudimentary form, in other birds, as when in flight a flock turns simultaneously, is much more developed in Ravens because of your ancestors’ association with the cosmic force called Odin; though belief in Odin has given way to other manifestations, the Ravens still do the work they have always done. Ravens – roosting in trees and on buildings, even perched upon a bust above someone’s chamber door, seemingly motionless yet keening observing every action…tell me that you Ravens do not still fly the length and breadth of Midgard, watching and thinking…then sharing those thoughts with forces that even you do not understand.”

  The Ravens held silent.

  And they were still, not flitting or fluttering, with eyes turned upon Levi that had all the seeming of demons that were dreaming.

  Levi watched them with a soft gentle gaze, an expression untinged by either worry or fear. Truth never held any terror for Levi, and he felt confident he had got at the heart of the truth with these Ravens.

  “We little suspected there were groundlings with such perception and understanding,” Pallas finally said. He hopped closer to Levi, till his sharp hooked beak was separated from Levi’s muzzle by the smallest of distances. “Deep within you, there is great pain.”

  “I have known great pain,” Levi admitted. “And I have known suffering, betrayal and despair. They are part of my past, but those events and emotions do not write my future because I choose not to let them.”

  “You will is the strongest of anyone we have met over countless generations, save for one,” Pallas told him. “You are correct, both in your deduction of our nature, and in the nature of our visit – a test.”

  “Of us?”

  “You have spoken well for your…” The Raven paused.

  “Pack,” Levi supplied.

  “Yes, your pack – we judge your friends as we have judged you,” Pallas continued. “We do not extend that judgment to all dogs, just as we do not apply to all birds the standards of Ravens.”

  “And the result of your test?” the Dachshund-mix prompted.

  “We have known of the situation with the Parrots and the Birds of Prey for some time, but we are watchers – it is not in our nature to interfere unless absolutely necessary,” Pallas said. “When we observed the conflict between you and the Raptors, we…”

  “You saw?” Levi questioned. “We noticed no Ravens in the area.”

  “We are watchers,” the Raven reminded him. “When we ourselves are observed, it is because we allow it.” Pallas paused, as if suddenly concerned he were divulging too much information, then continued: “It would be best for the Parrots if they could, on their own, either resolve their problems with the Raptors or come to terms with their lot.”

  “It would,” Levi agreed. “But not all creatures have the strength or courage to stand up to evil; they can defeat the Raptors, that I believe, but first they must find the will to do so…or be led to it.”

  The Raven gazed deep into Levi’s soul with eyes like dying embers, then nodded, turned and hopped back to his Unkindness. No words passed between the Ravens, but Levi seemed to sense a kind of murmur just below even the low threshold of a dog’s hearing. Then Pallas turned back to Levi.

  “Do as you think best, Levi,” Pallas said. “We shall continue to watch, especially when we are not ourselves seen.”

  With a sudden and fluid motion, as if the many individuals of the Unkindness were but a single bird, the Ravens shot skyward, swarming past the ancient pepper tree, growing dim in the bright afternoon sky before vanishing.

  Chapter Nine

  Finding a home for Princess proved much easier than they had feared, mostly due to the efficiency of the Fifth Avenues Irregulars, that loose association of domestic and feral animals supervised by Kim and Little Kitty. Though they were not told anything beyond there was an abused dog who needed a new home – Levi still feared a adverse reaction if the neighborhood animals found out Princess was a Pit Bull, and a gladiator at that – they worked tirelessly to ferret out leads and follow them up. A wandering hobo cat heard a story from a large-headed dog and told an American Shorthair who told a Springer Terrier who told a Manx who told…eventually reaching the headquarters of the Three Dog Detective Agency.

  A home was found by the end of the day.

  That development was eagerly welcomed by both Groucho and Smokey, who had not ventured to ground level since Princess had been conducted behind the double wooden gate of the driveway. Despite assurances from Sunny and Yoda, the two outdoor cats did not come down from the roofs, not even for the bowl of cat food always by the back door.

  At dusk, as darkness rose and the deep night sky began to acquire a faint reddish shimmer, the three dogs conducted Princess out the gate. The gate clicked behind them.

  “Stay close to Sunny and Yoda when we cross streets,” Levi instructed. “If they move off the walkway, keep with them.”

  Princess nodded.

  “We’re in no rush,” Levi pointed out.

  “If you need to stop and rest,” Sunny said, “you let us know.”

  “I’ll be all right,” Princess assured them. “After the food and water, being able to rest, I feel fine. And I’m anxious to see my new home.”

  “Possible home,” Yoda reminded her. “We hope things will work out, but…well, you know.”

  “I understand,” Princess acknowledged. “But after all that has happened today…I guess I just have faith that everything will be all right.”

  “We hope so,” Sunny echoed.

  Levi took point, leading the expedition north on Fifth, then turning east on Davidson.

  “Isn’t the home on F Street, where the road bends?” Yoda asked Sunny softly. At her nod, he whispered: “It would be faster to go straight up F.”

  “More eyes to see us, and Levi wants us to keep a low profile,” the Golden Retriever answered. “Besides, we would have to go past the Police Department, and we don’t want to risk the attention of Officers Arnold and Antony. Remember, Princess has no collar or identity medallion.”

  “Do you think those Ravens are about?” Yoda asked.

  “That I am sure of,” Sunny replied. “That’s what Levi said, though I do not think he told us everything that went on with those birds.”

  “They creep me out,” Yoda announced. “Talk about birds of ill omen!”

  “I think they’ve been trading on that reputation for…”

  “Keep it down,” Levi advised softly.

  The four dogs continued slowly and quietly, not wanting to attract the attention of any pet – some dogs were definitely barkers and needed little reason to break the silence of the night. Their journey was watched by the Sunshine Boys, a coupl
e of yarders at the corner of Davidson and Fifth, but barking was out of the question for either of the dogs as it would mean letting go of the ragged blue blanket that had been the object of their tug-of-war for the past couple of hours, and neither lad was prepared to lose that all important battle for domination.

  They made their way past the parking lot where once had been the old Police Department building but were now darkened offices closed for the night. The quartet crossed Fourth Avenue with ease, even though there was no traffic light.

  They passed Friendship Park, letting all the delightful smells of trees and grass waft over them, though they did have to fight the urge to obliterate all the markings made by other dogs; they had a job to do, and nothing would keep them from it – so intent were they upon their mission they would have probably let a letter-carrier pass without incident.

  As they left behind them the enticing and fragrant darkness of Friendship Park, the gloom alleviated only by the pale glimmer of the library lights on the other side of the park, they approached the intersection of Davidson and Third Avenue, a crossing they liked because it was controlled by a light and although it was on one of the two main north-south streets of Chula Vista, it was not a busy section of the street, and cars could almost always be counted on to obey both the light and the posted speed limits.

  The danger was not the intersection, but the Italian restaurant on the northwest corner. It was a distraction to the dogs, even to the normally focused Levi – if there was anything that came near to the little dog’s love of a good spare rib, it was a plate of spaghetti, no sauce, but with a bit of butter, a dash of salt and plenty of garlic.

  Yoda sniffed the air and sighed, as did Sunny.

  Levi smiled secretly.

  Once across the intersection, the dogs were able to easily put aside their instincts and appetites, for once past the liquor store and coffee house, sitting across from each other on the east side of Third, with Davidson between them, there were only soft-lit homes and doctor offices closed for the day.

  Night was fully upon the city as they entered the residential area, their way lit only by infrequent street lamps and amber porch lights. They were well out of their own neighborhood – Fourth Avenue was the eastern demarcation – so they walked quietly, softly, away from any houses where they sensed alert pets.

  They also kept a watch for roving gangs, either of dogs or cats, for in any conflict Princess in her weakened condition would have been both a liability and a target. While the Three Dog Detective Agency had been instrumental in ousting the Feral Gang from their own neighborhood, though at great cost, there were plenty of other gangs about, such as the Claw Masters, some cats to the north, and the Chula Vista Maulers, some bully dogs south of them; and then, of course, there were the Birds of Prey, just the latest gang to come to their attention…Levi was fully cogent that the Birds of Prey never would have come to their attention had it not been for the random happenstance of Benedict falling into their yard, but since his meeting with the enigmatic Ravens he wondered just how random that happenstance had actually been.

  Dogs spoke of Anubis and First Dog as guiding spirits because of the codes of ethics and behavior that stemmed from them, the same way cats viewed Bast and Primal Cat. But the activities of the Ravens hinted at something more than just guidelines and precepts, some force that moved in the world and perhaps sometimes even intervened in the activities of the Earth’s animals.

  Levi halted, instantly pulled from his light reverie by a sudden feeling of…he was not quite sure what. Not danger, certainly, for his hackles did not rise, but a presence of some kind.

  “What is it, Levi?” Sunny asked quietly as she moved to his side, her keen eyes scanning the night.

  Levi sniffed the air. Although he smelled and analyzed all the millions and millions of smells that comprised the world of animals, domestic and feral, he detected nothing that would explain the feeling that had come over him. It was as if, he reflected, something vast and ancient had passed near, something with a scent beyond understanding, but which had now passed, and was gone.

  “Let’s go,” Levi finally said. “We need to cut over to F Street now that we’re in a residential area. How is Princess doing?”

  “Tired,” Sunny replied. “But game, not complaining.”

  Levi nodded. “She won’t have to endure much longer. Only a few blocks to go.”

  “Good; I’ll let her know.”

  The dogs turned on Del Mar Avenue, then onto F Street. The farther east they traveled, the older and larger the houses became. A few of them were actually originals, some of the first houses built on the quarter-acre lots into which Chula Vista had been divided in the Nineteenth Century.

  “These houses are so large and beautiful,” Princess murmured as she surveyed the residences set back from the street, fenced in, surrounded by huge yards and stands of old-growth trees. “Is one of these really going to be my home?”

  “If you’re lucky, Princess,” Yoda quipped. Then he narrowed his eyes and looked to Sunny. “Say, doesn’t Big Head live somewhere around here?”

  “Yes,” she replied, “Roscoe does live near here.”

  “He likes it when I call him Big Head,” Yoda maintained.

  Sunny sniffed. “I am quite sure he does not.”

  Levi turned slightly and uttered a soft woof, indicating a need for absolute stealth. They approached a large house with a curving driveway that ran between two posts topped with griffins. The house was two stories tall and had a porch that stretched the entire length of its façade. Lights gleamed softly through wide curtained windows on either side of a heavy door with a fanlight that cast an arch of illumination down the steps.

  “That’s the house, Princess,” Levi said softly in her ear, the others drawing closer to listen. “This is as far as we can go; from this point, it is all up to you.”

  “What do I do?” she asked.

  “A straightforward approach,” Levi said. “Scratch on the door.”

  “Oh, Levi, I am so scared,” the Pit Bull whimpered. “What if I am not wanted? Will these companions be any less cruel than those from whom I ran away?”

  “There is no way to tell the future,” Levi answered. “Will you be welcomed? I don’t know. What I do know is that it is a house in which loneliness dwells. For more than twenty years a dog lived here with her companion, but last year the dog fell asleep. I do not know if you will be welcomed, but you are needed, and that may be enough until true affection can develop. Cruel? I do not think so. A dog would not dwell contentedly for twenty years with a cruel companion. Off you go now.”

  As Princess moved cautiously toward the house, both Yoda and Sunny softly wished her well.

  “Let’s get out of sight,” Levi suggested. “The shrubbery over by that fence will give us cover and allow a good view.”

  They settled down under the heavy fronds and watched as the Pit Bull entered the illumination thrown from the fanlight, watched as she mounted the steps, as she hesitated for a very long moment at the door, as she finally scratched upon the door.

  After a few moments, the door slowly opened.

  “I am so nervous,” Sunny muttered.

  Yoda scratched behind his ear, causing the identity medallion on his collar to tinkle softly in the silent night.

  “Shhh,” Levi cautioned.

  For what seemed an eternity, dog and companion stood upon the wide porch, regarding each other in the night, one needing a home, the other needing someone to relieve the emptiness. Finally, Princess entered the house and the door closed behind her…closed, but not before she looked back gratefully into the night.

  “We did it!” Yoda exclaimed. “We did it!”

  “Princess did it,” Levi reminded him.

  “Just like the legend of First Dog,” Sunny murmured. “Do you think it could really have been that way, that it could be more than a campfire legend?”

  Before Levi could voice an opinion, a sound came out of the darkness beh
ind them, on the other side of the fence, moving heavily through the thick foliage. The three dogs froze, barely daring to breathe, each one searching the unknown night with sight, hearing and scent.

  They feared it was either a coyote or a skunk, for both were known in Chula Vista. Coyotes were dangerous because they were of a lawless breed, cruel of spirit and did not ascribe to any rule of ethics, not even that of First Dog who was a lawful wanderer until he approached the campfire and changed everything; between dogs and skunks, on the other paw, was an enmity that went back untold generations, and the dog who tried to overcome that enmity was likely to end up shunned by his fellow dogs…at least until the stink wore off.

  The heavy movement through the foliage grew louder.

  Instinct demanded a choice between fight and flight, but these operatives of the Three Dog Detective Agency had learned long ago there was always an alternative to the instinctual reaction; while instinct often worked to the benefit of the individual dog, it usually worked against the welfare of others. Had the dogs, especially Levi, not learned to temper instinct with intellect, they would have remained housebound with all the concerns of the modern dog – the next meal, a place to sleep and being scratched behind the ears.

  They tensed for action as the noises reached a crescendo.

  A massive shape broke through the foliage.

  And the three detectives relaxed.

  “Big Head!” Yoda exclaimed.

  “Roscoe, it’s so nice to see you,” Sunny said.

  “Evening, Miss Sunny,” the white dog replied. “Hi, everybody, it’s good to see you all again.”

  “When you said Big Head lived nearby, I didn’t know you meant next door,” Yoda said to Levi.