I drove down the slippery streets and headed for the park. No cats sat outside at Mrs. Hale's house -- not in this weather. A few people scooped sidewalks, and some kids made a snowman though he melted even as they patted him together. I don't know why, but I gave their creation a little whisper of magic to hold together, which wasn't hard with the amount of magic in the air -- and the snow. I wanted them to have fun. I wanted laugher back in the world.
I didn't find a single pigeon at the park, and in the scheme of things that didn't shock me at all. I didn't think they had been gone long, though; feathers sat atop the snow by their barn. I opened up the bag of bird seed and spread a good amount inside the door where they would find the food. At least the bag felt lighter on the way back to the car.
I needed something more to do -- something which would help. I got in the car and started to drive and turned abruptly at the next corner when I realized I had been heading toward David's hotel. I didn't want to go anywhere near there -- or the Bear Camp and remember the meals with David. I knew I would have to get over the aversion to the last one or starve. I ate more meals there than I did at home.
I thought of one other place I could go this morning. I headed towards the outskirts of town and found the sign to The Rookery. Birds flew away as I approached the building, and I felt better already for seeing them, though I couldn't quite catch what they said.
I slipped inside the building's door, tapping snow from my boots, and glancing around at the tall cages holding parrots, cockatoos and macaws, all of whom watched me with some interest. I could see several cages of cockatiels too. This wasn't going to be easy.
"Kat!" Deb said, coming into the room. "Did the recording work?"
I crossed to her and spoke quietly. I didn't want every bird in the place suddenly realizing they understood me. I'd been here before and the reaction had unsettled Deb and Richard.
"Not yet, but I'm going to try something different. I want to adopt -- buy -- another bird. Something smaller than Shakespeare, I think, so he doesn't feel threatened.
"Hmmm . . . yes, I can see where something like that might work," she agreed.
Birds stood in a dozen cages, and a tank of lovely fish sat against the left wall. I didn't see either of the two shop cats, though. They were indoor cats. I probably couldn't have learned anything new from them anyway.
As we walked through the cages, I listened to the birds babbling away, but most of what they said concerned their next meal.
"I'm thinking a cockatiel," I said softly. Too loud and all the birds in the place would go nuts. "A friendly one."
"Oh, I have several of those!"
I needed to find one in particular and I couldn't with Deb following me around and showing me each bird. I hoped the talkative little cockatiel who spoke parrot would show himself, but so far I found no sign. I hoped they hadn't sold him. The little guy on the recording might be the kind of companion I needed for Shakespeare.
So I made a little disaster for Deb to go handle in the back room with a few boxes falling over. Nothing serious. Once she had left the room I moved to the middle of the shop and glanced around.
"Okay," I said. "I'm looking for Gaylord."
"Now there is a neat trick," a bird said from behind me. I recognized the voice and turned to find a cockatiel clinging to the side of a cage, the yellow feathers on top of his head standing high as he tilted his head back and forth. "I didn't know any human could speak a bird tongue."
"I'm not human. How did you learn parrot? I heard you talking to Telora on the recording they made for me."
"Is that what they were doing? Huh. I half hoped they really planned to kill the feather brained princess." He shifted his hold, his head tilted to the side. "You try spending all your adult life in a cage next to something you can't communicate with. I was bored. I'm still bored."
"How would you like to go home with me?"
His little feet did a quick nervous dance, and then he stopped and stared. "What's the hitch?"
Smart bird. Just what I wanted. "I have an African Gray who only speaks in human quotes. I'm hoping you might get him to open up and talk about some things going on. Bad things. It could be dangerous to go with me."
"Danger is my . . . well, it would be my game if I weren't stuck here," he said with a dramatic sigh. I began to think Telora wasn't the only drama queen in the shop. "Another damned parrot, huh?"
"Afraid so. And a cat."
"Both? So you want to take me from the limbo of purgatory and lead me straight to hell?"
"Do you want out of here?" I asked.
A dark blue hyacinth macaw came over to the side of the cage beside us and leaned out, trying to pluck at my sleeve.
"Nice person. Lovely person. Take me. I'm such a pretty bird." Telora fluffed up her feathers and preened. "Wouldn't you want a pretty bird? See all my lovely feathers. You don't want such a scrawny little thing. Such a little thing is hardly worthy to be called a bird --"
Gaylord tried to reach out and bite her. She pulled back with a little squeak of dismay. He looked up at me. "Take me out of here. A cat has to be better company than this fluffed up feather duster."
Deb came back. I saw her eyes go wide as she saw me standing by the cage with Gaylord and she began shaking her head in worry before she even got to us.
"This one is . . . well, he has an attitude, Kat," she said, tapping the cage. Gaylord tried to bite her and she drew her finger back in haste.
"Yes, I can see," I said. I laughed and put my hand out.
She made a sound of warning, but Gaylord came over and rubbed against my fingers.
"Well," she said. She shook her head as though to dislodge some vision that couldn't possibly be true. "I've never seen Gaylord act so politely."
"Well, you know me. I seem to attract odd, troubled birds."
Gaylord looked up at me, and I could tell he thought about biting -- and thought better of it.
"Well, let's get you set up."
We worked our way through the shop. Gaylord gave me hints -- very loud ones -- on the type of food and toys he wanted. I gave in. After all, I was taking him into danger and to be the companion to a parrot. I figured I owed him something for the problems he would face.
Richard arrived and looked equally shocked when he learned I intended to take Gaylord. I kind of felt sorry for the little guy, but he had brought most of this on himself.
I took Gaylord out of the cage and put him into the smaller one I had bought for him. He wouldn't be in it for long, but I had to make a show for the humans. I had ways of making even recalcitrant birds behave at home without a visible cage, and he'd have a perch like Shakespeare's to roost on.
"If you have trouble you can bring him back," Richard said as he helped gather up the supplies to take out to the car. "It's our normal policy, and goes double this time. Gaylord has been a problem since the day he hatched. He seems to have taken to you, though. Maybe this is a good match."
From the look Gaylord gave him I began to suspect the little cockatiel understood not only parrot but a good amount of human as well. Very smart bird.
"I think we'll be fine," I said, and wished so in many ways. "But thanks."
Richard went out ahead of us, and Deb went back to the other room, shaking her head in obvious wonder. As we headed out the door we passed a cage with four lovely little female cockatiels, all of them fluttering around and giving Gaylord a few 'come-on' whistles.
"Buy me one of those?" Gaylord asked as we passed.
"Maybe later, if things work out."
"Huzza! Things are looking up!"
When we got a block away from the shop I opened the cage and let Gaylord come and sit on my shoulder. He looked around, nodding.
"So this is the real world, huh? Doesn't seem so bad. What's the white stuff?"
"Snow. Water so cold it's frozen."
"Gah." He did a little mock shiver and jumped down on the steering wheel, holding on tight as I turned left and right.
>
"The snow will go away soon. But you're going to be in a nice warm house, anyway. The world's not safe outside for small birds."
"I'm tough. I can --"
A semi went through the intersection in front of us. Gaylord screamed, threw himself backwards off the steering wheel and tried to bury himself in my jacket. I fought very, very hard not to laugh.
"You can come back out," I said. "The truck is gone. But those are the sorts of things you'll see out in the real world."
"I'll stick to a cage," he said, his voice muffled.
But he came back out a while later and cautiously held to my shoulder. I drove at a nice, sedate pace, enjoying the calm.
As we went past Mrs. Hale's house he saw cats and made some rather rude sounds.
"Be nice. Those are some of my friends."
"Friends? You have a pet cat and cat friends? What kind of weirdo are you?"
"The kind who can speak to cats and birds."
"Oh, that's got to be great," he said. "I can imagine what the cats have to say. Could you please hand me that cute little bird there, if you don't mind? It's just far too much trouble to leap up and grab him."
Well, he had that remarkably right.
We started up the hill and headed toward my house, and as the place came in view I found David's car parked in front, and David sitting on the porch swing, reading the paper.
He'd come back!
"Into the cage. The human doesn't know about me and birds and cats."
"Ah. Okay. Cover me up, will you? I felt cold going from the shop to the car."
"No problem."
I hastily got him into the cage and put blanket over the top. Then I grabbed the cage, the food and the toys and headed up toward the house, smiling --
"Where the hell have you been?" David demanded as he stood, throwing the newspaper down on the swing. He took a slight limping step toward me. "I thought we were going hiking today. I have work to do."
He didn't even look like the David I had known. He'd pulled his hair back and stood with his legs slightly apart and his hands on his hips. He appeared to be belligerent and angry and part of me wanted to tell him to go to hell.
He must have seen the emotions in my face and knew what the look meant. Something changed, but I couldn't say the new look was for the better, though not quite as belligerent.
"I want to get this job done," he said, but in a tone which made him sound as though the job was the last thing he cared about.
Maybe he wanted the job done and to get away from me. Fine. At this point, as much as being with him hurt, I could help get his damned pictures so he would leave. Maybe the spell I had used would wear off once he got away.
"Let me put Gaylord in the house. Get your stuff into my car. I know a couple quick hikes we can make, even in this weather."
He nodded and stalked away, slipping a little on the steps as he lost his footing. I wondered about drugs suddenly, but a magical check showed nothing but the same repulsion spell -- stronger than I normally would have been able to create. All the magic in the air helped, no doubt.
The wind blew and I grabbed the newspaper that started to blow off the swing. He'd been reading the arts section about a museum display in Denver. The color pictures showed gold and gems. I wished I could have read the paper with David -- the David I had first met. History fascinated me, and I knew nothing about the Golden Horde and the Far East.
"Hey, you with the hands. It's friggin' cold out here, you know."
"Sorry."
I opened the door, glad I'd kept David out. I hated those feelings, but I didn't trust the way he was acting and --
And I had to stop obsessing over David. My relationship -- or actually the lack of one at this point -- was the last thing I needed to be worried about.
As I closed the door I saw David fumbling to get his car door open. Something obviously had him upset as well. And I knew this had to be my fault because of the damned stupid spell I had set. I would have to live with the results.
I took the blanket off the top of the cage and carried Gaylord across the room to where Shakespeare sat. The larger bird stared when I brought Gaylord out of the cage and put him on the perch next to him. He even sidled away a little.
"Ah come on, big guy. I took a bath today," Gaylord said in parrot.
Well, Gaylord did have Shakespeare's attention at least.
Outside David hit the horn several times.
"So what's wrong with the creep?" Gaylord said shaking his head.
"He's not --" I started to say he wasn't a creep. But actually, at the moment, he was. "He won't be around for much longer."
"Yeah, whatever. Just make sure he doesn't mess with me," Gaylord said, clicking his beak several times. "The guy is odd, you know?"
"I know," I said. "Don't worry. Can I trust you two not to get into trouble if I leave you out?"
"Hey, I'll be a perfect angel," Gaylord said.
I didn't know if I should believe him or not. I ignored the occasional horn blasts, and worked hard at curbing my anger. At least he hadn't brought Aletta along, which cheered me up a little. I put food and water out for both birds, smiling to see the way Shakespeare checked out what I had given to the smaller bird.
"Hey, how about a little food for me, too," Cato said, walking into the room and jumping up on the chair nearby.
Gaylord landed on my arm and leaned down over Cato's face. He fluffed out his feathers and half raised his wings.
"So, you're the cat, huh? Think you're hot stuff do you, Mr. Fuzzy? Well don't mess with me, cat. I'm faster than you'll ever be. And you're never going to fly, butterball. So don't even think about trying for me."
Cato watched the little bird twittering away, his head tilted slightly. Gaylord snapped his beak a few times and stopped. Cato glanced back at me.
"So this is him, huh? Cute little guy," Cato said.
"What did he say?" Gaylord demanded, staring the cat in the face.
"He said you look very dangerous," I answered.
"Good."
Content that he ruled the roost, so to speak, Gaylord climbed back up on the perch with Shakespeare, who still eyed him with open speculation. I trusted them both, but I did whisper a little spell to keep them from going at each other if something set them off.
The horn honked, long and loud. I gritted my teeth.
"Food?" Cato asked, hopefully.
I almost waved him off, but David could wait a few minutes longer while I got my own temper under control. I gave Cato his food and got myself a glass of water and some aspirin.
When I stepped out of the house he had started to honk but he stopped as I stalked down to the car. He, wisely, didn't say anything at all when I got inside. We drove away in silence.
Chapter Thirteen
David said nothing as we left Estes Park and headed up to the place I had so loved sharing with him the day before. The ranger at the gate -- Tom something, a new guy -- warned us to be careful of the weather and said most of the park was closed.
David directed me to Deer Mountain Trailhead. Maybe he thought the name would be a good omen and we'd see some animals, which might be true since we were far away from where the gargoyle had been.
My arm began to ache at the remembrance of the dawn encounter. I'd had a lousy day, from start to . . . well, I couldn't say to finish because it wasn't even quite noon yet. I began to dread the whole rest of the day. Things might actually get worse.
I kept glancing towards the sky, thinking I sensed magic moving through the low, grey clouds. I thought about ducking my head under something for a while, and -- like Cato -- hoping all the bad stuff went away.
As soon as we got out of the car, David stalked up the trail, the pack slung carelessly over his shoulder. The weight must have put him off balance because he kept slipping, even on the easy part of the climb. I wondered why he even had me go along since he quickly moved out of my line of sight. I didn't mind. Being alone on the trail gave me some unexpecte
d peace.
I love the wilds. I love the woods, and the trees and they looked gorgeous in snow. The place made me wish I could do photography and take the pictures home to treasure forever. I might have to get a camera and work and maybe wrap it in a close fitting anti-magic shield -- a protective case like the kind they use underwater. I'd never considered something of the sort before, but it might work. I thought I would enjoy photography -- a new way to share all I love with others.
The idea cheered me up. I even thought about what I wanted to write for this article. I saw fresh deer prints and almost called David back -- but changed my mind when I saw him stomping up over a little rise ahead of me. I slowed and continued to enjoy this lovely walk. What had happened before -- and what would happen later -- didn't mean I shouldn't appreciate this pretty little area any less.
I glanced up at the first strong brush of a breeze and snow began to fall, though not as heavily as earlier in the day. I almost yelled to tell David saying we should turn back.
Not yet. This was only a little snow, and nothing dangerous. I figured if it got bad or too cold, he had enough brains to turn around. The snow came down in a beautiful veil of white and the breeze died down almost immediately. I stopped and breathed in the calm of the place. Though I lived in town, I belonged in the wild. Maybe I didn't spend enough time here anymore.
I closed my eyes and stood in the snow, listening to the whisper of the breeze through the trees. The sound is lovely as long as you don't mind the cold. I enjoyed the moment. This felt right. Calm. I needed calm to face the battle which I knew would come to me soon. I needed to remember my place in the world, which was not chasing after some human male.
Timber had praised me for using my head and thinking my way through problems. David was a problem on far too many levels. I had to get away from him.
Okay. I could accept the truth finally.
I opened my eyes and blinked --
Something moved in the falling snow off to my right. Something not quite there, misty and horse-shaped.
I held my place and my breath, watching with a slow turn of my head until I saw the shape again. This wasn't one of the 'nearly ice' type of rider I had faced earlier today, praise all the gods, but one of the phantom army, moving slowly through the storm as though circling me.
Kat Among The Pigeons Page 15