‘Avia.’ The word came unbidden into his mind. Avia. Of course! Why hadn’t he thought of it before?
‘Now calm yourself down, you old fool!’ he told himself. ‘Don’t get over-excited. You need to think this through.’
But try as he might, Tomar could not help feeling a sense of elation. It would need all of his skills to see any scheme to fruition. But he just might have found an answer – a way by which Birddom could be saved, if it be the Creator’s will.
*
Cian felt drained but, at the same time, greatly relieved now that she had told her story. She had fulfilled her promise to Kopa. He had not died in vain. She had passed on the responsibility to one who was in a position to do what needed to be done. The Great Owl would stop those villains, Engar and Traska. The little chaffinch looked once more into the barn owl’s great black eyes. And then she saw the change within their depths. The compassion and concern had gone from them, and they were suddenly like deep, black pools of icy water. She felt as if by merely staring into them she was drowning. Cian jerked her gaze away. She seemed an instant from flight, but Engar’s huge wing settled across her back.
‘You must be so tired,’ he began, soothingly. ‘You must rest. But first I would like to offer you my humble thanks. You have done Birddom a great service today, Cian. I know how hard it must have been for you. You have been so brave. But it is all over now. I will take it from here, you can rest assured. I will consult with my brothers on the Council at the earliest opportunity. Indeed, I would like you to meet them all, so that they can have the opportunity to thank you themselves. I am sure that you are wanting to get back to your own home, but I hope that you will not mind delaying that pleasure by just one day. You will be our guest of honour, and deservedly so.’
The gentleness of his words were at odds with the pressure upon Cian’s back as he pinned her to the branch. She felt that she had little alternative but to accept.
‘Good,’ he responded, easing the weight a little. ‘Then it is settled. But we can’t rest here. It is far too exposed. You just come along with me, and we’ll find you a place of comfort where you can get a good night’s sleep. And then tomorrow, when you are well rested, we will be able to show our gratitude in a manner befitting a true heroine of Birddom.’
*
When she awoke, Cian felt disoriented by her unfamiliar surroundings. She stared wildly around her for a moment, until she caught sight of the barn owl. The look of malice on his beak chilled her blood, and her one desperate thought was of getting away. But, even as she took to the air, she was knocked to the ground by a huge black wing. Momentarily stunned, Cian lay on her back and looked up, in terror, into the face of a magpie. Its unmistakable aura of pure evil left her utterly incapable of movement, save for the pounding of her heart.
‘Let me do the introductions,’ the barn owl called out, mockingly. ‘Traska, Cian. Cian, Traska. Ah, I see that you recognise the name, little lady. And, while we are being so polite, forgive me for not introducing myself before now. I wonder if you can guess my name. No? Well, I’ll put you out of your misery, in that much at least. I am Great Owl as I said, or at least I soon will be, and, together, we are the real rulers of your beloved Birddom. I am Engar. Now, what I would like you to do is to repeat your story to Traska here. I am sure that he would find it most enlightening.’
Fear constricted the chaffinch’s throat, as Traska prodded her impatiently on her chest with his sharp beak. ‘Come on. Get on with it,’ he ordered her, harshly. ‘I don’t want to waste my time. Tell me everything that you know, and tell me quickly.’
Merion had been forced to remain in the knot-hole for several hours, until dawn had finally arrived and stirred the corvidae from their roosts. The robin had waited until the last of the rooks had flown off in search of food, then he had quickly emerged from his cramped place of concealment and had flown back in the direction that he had come. Merion ignored the agony in his wing-tips, caused by his night in such a confined space. He had to get back as fast as he could, so that he could warn Engar of the danger. He could still scarcely believe it himself. The corvidae were on the rise again. It was too dreadful to contemplate.
The little robin’s urgency carried him swiftly to Engar’s nest-site and, on arrival, he was just about to call out a greeting when he heard a voice that silenced his cry. Merion knew that voice. It was one that had haunted his dreams since childhood, turning them into nightmares from which he would wake in a cold sweat of terror. Traska!
Merion couldn’t understand. What was that vile bird doing here? And then, another voice began to speak. A tiny, fearful voice, telling a story, which, as it unfolded, gave Merion his answer. It was an answer that he did not want to hear. No. It wasn’t possible. Engar was a great bird. He was his hero. What he was hearing simply couldn’t be true. But, as Merion listened to the terrified little chaffinch, he knew, in his heart, that she was telling the truth. Engar was a traitor, in league with Traska and the corvidae. And he, Merion, had helped the owl to gain his position of power. A position from which he could now do just about anything that he wanted to betray Birddom. As he himself had betrayed Tomar.
Merion realised suddenly that he hadn’t heard Engar speak. Perhaps he was not there at all. Perhaps he knew nothing about all this. No, that wouldn’t do. Merion couldn’t fool himself any longer. The chaffinch had mentioned him by name. Engar was guilty and, therefore, Engar was evil. As evil as Traska himself. But where was he?
Merion looked behind him fearfully, lest the barn owl had somehow crept up and was waiting to strike. But no talon hovered over him, ready to deliver the fatal blow. The robin inched forward until he could see Traska’s blue-tinged wing-tips, and long black back. The magpie continued to tower over the inert body of the little chaffinch and, at that moment, Cian stopped talking. She had told her tale, all over again, and now stared up at Traska in petrified silence.
‘I told you that it was an interesting story, didn’t I?’ Engar hooted, and flapped across to land beside the chaffinch. ‘And I think that it would be wisest if it wasn’t told to anyone ever again. Don’t you agree?’
The barn owl addressed his question directly to Cian, who replied in stuttering tones. ‘I won’t tell anyone else, I promise you. No one else need know. Your secret will go with me to my grave.’
‘How prophetic,’ Engar chuckled, cruelly. ‘You have never spoken a truer word, my dear.’
Traska’s foot suddenly gripped the little chaffinch like a vice, and his beak fastened about her neck, twisting Cian’s head sideways. It was a position in which she could only watch as Engar’s great talon swung inexorably down, and tore out her throat.
Merion watched, too, in utter revulsion. He gagged, as bile rose in his craw, and fought desperately not to make any sound which might give him away. Not that the two huge birds would have heard him. They were laughing loudly, as they tore the chaffinch limb from limb, bathing in her warm blood. Cian would never hear anything ever again. Merion turned from the carnage and crept silently away, afraid that, at any second, they would be upon him, too. But no beak rent his flesh. No executioner’s talon descended upon his neck. He made his way slowly, not sure of his direction, just wishing to put as much distance as possible between himself and the horror that he had witnessed.
Tomar couldn’t remember when, if ever, he had been so excited. There was frustration mixed with the elation, of course. Frustration that he was too old and too infirm to make the journey. Once again, he would have to rely on others. He thought back to the adventures on which he had sent Kirrick and Portia.
‘Let it be robins again, then,’ the old owl said to himself. ‘It would be most fitting.’
But the more he thought about it, the more troubled he became. The journey that he would ask them to make was an arduous one. For Portia, at least, her days of flying hither and thither at his command were probably behind her
. Olivia was a strong girl, of course – a fine robin in every way. But it was a dangerous thing that he would be asking her to do. Far more dangerous than the task that he had set for Portia some years earlier. Tomar knew that he could not send Olivia on her own. She would need a companion. If only Merion hadn’t thrown in his lot with Engar. How he missed that robin and their discussions, their lively arguments, more often than not. He would feel so much happier if he could send the pair of robins. But it was not to be. He must face the unpalatable truth. Merion was lost to him.
The old owl still cherished the hope that his robin friend would wake up to the reality of what Engar was about, but it was a forlorn hope. Engar had succeeded in deceiving far wiser heads than Merion’s. No, he must think of someone else. Olivia needed someone like Mickey, the chirpy bullfinch who had been Portia’s companion when she had travelled to Wingland on the Council’s behalf. His good humour and common-sense had been vital on their mission together, especially when it appeared that it had ended in failure.
‘Olivia might fail, too,’ Tomar told himself. ‘It is asking a lot of any bird. But I have little choice. I can’t even fly as far as the borders of this forest, in my present state. Olivia will have to do my flying for me.’
As he spoke these words quietly to himself, an idea formed in his mind. ‘That would work,’ he mused. ‘Kopa would be the perfect choice. He could accompany Olivia on her travels. That young chaffinch knows his way around, all right. And he’s got a brain on him.’ Tomar clapped his old wings, in his excitement. ‘I’ll send word for him without delay, though, now I come to think of it, I don’t remember having seen him for quite a while. I wonder where Kopa could have got to?’
Chapter Nine
Portia and Olivia had been most concerned about their old friend in the aftermath of the Council meeting. Word had spread quickly about Tomar’s ousting as Great Owl, and his further banishment from the Council itself. Feeling helpless and embarrassed, the two female robins had delayed in visiting the old owl. What could they say? What comfort could they give?
Finally, they had plucked up the courage to face up to the reality. Tomar was Great Owl no longer. Instead, he was an ageing, frail but still dear friend. And anything that they could do for him they would do with a glad heart. However, when the robins arrived at the crooked fir in Tanglewood, they found Tomar in high spirits. Excitement glittered in his eyes, the years seemed to have dropped from him. He looked, once again, like an owl to be reckoned with.
‘Portia. Olivia. My dears, it is so good to see you. I have been thinking about you both. Indeed I have. And that has given me hope. More hope than I have felt in a very long time.’
The two robins stared at the tawny owl, with barely concealed curiosity. ‘What has happened, Tomar?’ they cheeped, in unison.
‘I have come alive again, that is what has happened. For far too long now, I have been so wrapped up in my own problems that I have forgotten that I am only here to serve Birddom. Well, better late than never, eh?’
The two females could scarcely contain themselves. ‘What is it?’ they cried out. ‘Tell us. Tell us, please!’
‘I’ve been an old fool. It should have come to me much sooner. But no matter. We should still be in time, if we act quickly.’
‘In time for what? Don’t be so cryptic,’ Portia chided.
‘Forgive me,’ Tomar replied, in suitably contrite tones. ‘I will not tease you any longer. Not that I was teasing. It’s just such a wonderful idea, that’s all. Quite brilliant, if I say so myself.’
‘Tomar!’ Portia screeched, impatience boiling over into anger.
‘Sorry,’ the owl said, soothingly. ‘I’ll tell you all about it. Have either of you heard of Avia?’
A look of incomprehension spread across both robins’ faces.
‘No. Well, I don’t suppose that there is any reason that you should have. It’s only something that has been passed down through the generations on the Council of the Owls, although it has not been spoken of since Cerival was Great Owl. Maybe we should be thankful for that, because now it is a secret that few if any but myself know.’
‘What is Avia?’ Olivia asked, with a rising sense of excitement.
‘Where is Avia? That is more to the point. Avia is a place. A land, in fact.’
‘I’ve never heard of it,’ Portia interjected. ‘Is it very far away?’
‘No one knows. Or, at least, no one in Birddom that I am aware of.’
‘Don’t you know?’ Portia asked.
‘I only know what I have been told. What has been talked of at the Council. Avia is a wonderful place, a paradise, where every bird is safe. A land where there is no hunger, and no enemies to fear. In Avia, the skies are always blue and the worms are fat and juicy. Above all, in Avia there is no Man.’
‘Can such a place really exist? Mightn’t it just be old wives’ tales, made up to give comfort in times of trouble?’
Tomar looked quite piqued. ‘Oh no, it exists, I am sure of that. The Council is too solemn and austere a place for old wives tales.’
Portia spoke placatingly to her old friend. ‘I am sorry, Tomar. It is not that I do not believe you, and I did not mean to give offence. It is just that Avia sounds like a dream.’
‘It is a dream. It’s a prayer. But nonetheless it is real. And you have to help me to find it.’ The tawny owl’s great eyes fixed upon the younger of the two female robins as he said this.
‘Me?’ Olivia replied, somewhat shakily.
‘Yes, Olivia. Now, don’t be afraid. I have a plan that I think will work. And Portia, like you I do not mean to give offence. I have thought long and hard about this. In the long road that is history, we all have a part to play. Great or small. And you have played yours, my dear, to Birddom’s great benefit. Oh, I know that you would do anything, fly anywhere, out of love for me. But this task is not for you. Let the next generation take their turn. You have done enough.’
‘But won’t it be dangerous?’ Portia asked, only somewhat mollified by Tomar’s speech.
‘Danger is all around us, you must know that. Birddom is no longer a safe place to live. And yet I won’t try to deceive you. It is a desperate chance. But no more so than sending Kirrick flying across the length and breadth of the land. No more so than sending a plucky female across the seas to Wingland. No, my dear, I will not play down the dangers, but merely hope that Olivia here can find the courage inside herself to accept the quest.’
‘What do I have to do?’ the younger robin asked, quietly and calmly.
‘I need you to go on a journey.’
‘But you said that you didn’t know where Avia is,’ Portia interrupted.
‘That is true, my dear. I don’t. The door to that land is hidden from me. But I know of someone who is in possession of the key.’
‘We have been lucky,’ Traska said, hopping up and down in the clearing. Traces of blood still adorned his beak, from his earlier exploits with Cian. ‘A lot of planning has gone into defeating Tomar, and it was nearly all for nothing. We are not yet ready, and all will be lost if that dratted owl gets wind of anything.’
‘Stop worrying,’ Engar replied. ‘You said it yourself, we’ve been lucky. The only two birds in Birddom who bore this tale are no longer in any position to tell it. Our secrets are safe.’
‘Can you be sure?’ Traska’s eyes flashed angrily. ‘What if someone else knows? What if Tomar has sent out a whole network of little birds, flitting far and wide, and gathering gossip. If it was easy for one young chaffinch to find out so much...’
Traska left the sentence unfinished, but the barn owl met his stare with humorous defiance.
‘If so, then we can have some more fun tearing them apart, can’t we?’
The evil magpie laughed, in spite of himself, but then continued, more seriously.
‘I st
ill don’t like it. We need to take precautions. What if I gathered all of our brethren together in our place? Cra Wyd could hold a vast host.’
‘I think that would not be a wise move,’ Engar replied, cautiously. He was nervous of igniting Traska’s anger. The magpie scared him, in spite of his own size advantage. ‘It would draw too much attention. If rooks and crows upped sticks and disappeared, questions would be asked, you can be sure of that.’
‘Oh, all right,’ Traska sulked. ‘I suppose that what you say makes sense. We will just have to be more careful. And more secret, until we are ready. Then there will be no more need for secrets. All Birddom will know of us and will quake with fear!’
‘You will have to find Septimus. He alone can tell you of the secret way. He, among all of the Creator’s creatures, is the only one who can show you the gateway into Avia.’
‘But who is Septimus, and where will I find him?’
Olivia’s questions underlined her eagerness for such an adventure, and Tomar smiled at her before continuing.
‘You are so like your father. Well, Septimus is revered in legend as being wise beyond any other. He must be very old indeed, if the stories are to be believed. For he has always been the guardian of the way, even from before the inception of Birddom. But here’s a case of the rook calling the raven black! And yet, compared to him, I must still be a nestling.’
‘How can any bird live to be so old?’ Portia wondered.
Tomar shot her a swift glance of approval. ‘Robins are nobody’s fools,’ he thought to himself. Aloud, he said, ‘Septimus resides on the western fringe of the Isle of Storms. The stories are vague as to the exact location of his home, though I know it to be high on a mountainside. But I am sure that one so ancient and so revered will be well known among the local bird population. Once you get to the Isle of Storms, it should not prove too difficult to find him.’
Seven for a Secret Page 8