“You should sleep,” Ariel told her. “We’ve been flying hard for a million wingbeats.”
“When can we continue south?”
“We’ll ask Frieda,” Ariel said, then frowned. “I’m worried about her.”
The Silverwing elder was not with them; she’d been summoned with Achilles Graywing to report to Halo Freetail, the chief elder of the bridge. Marina was worried about Frieda’s health too. More and more, over the nights, she’d had to rely on others to fly for her, and her breath rattled almost constantly. Even her bright eyes seemed slightly bleary, wandering off to the far horizons.
“This last journey was too much for her,” said Ariel. Marina shook her head, alarmed. “She’ll be all right. She just needs rest.” She didn’t want to hear about anyone dying. But Ariel said nothing.
Amazingly, Marina slumbered, despite the constant thrum of activity around her, despite the impatience coursing through her veins. Pure exhaustion won out. When she woke, Frieda was beside her, and Marina broke into a glad smile.
“The elders are holding a war council in an hour,” said Frieda, suppressing a cough, “and I would like you both to accompany me. You may need to be my voice.”
The war council was held in the highest of the bridge’s soaring towers. It was here that Halo Freetail and the other elders made their roost, and the location gave a sweeping view of the Human city, and the open skies above the flatlands.
Marina felt horribly out of place among the elders—and such a large collection she’d never seen. There were hundreds from all the different colonies, and their faces were all wrinkled and lined and awfully sober as they spoke. Like all the Freetails, Halo was an imposing figure, considerably larger than a Silverwing or a Brightwing, with a huge chest, and the distinctively long tail membrane which enabled her to be incredibly agile in flight. “We have now been joined by Achilles Graywing,” she said, “and Frieda Silverwing, and for that we are extremely glad. Welcome to you both.”
There was a chorus of greeting from the other elders.
“Our scouts have told us that the owls are massing from the north and are within several nights’ journey of Bridge City. Much as it saddens me, we must now talk of war.” Her chest fell as she sighed. “I know that some of you put great faith in the teachings of Nocturna’s Promise, and had high hopes that the Humans would somehow come to our aid when it came time to fight. But I understand from Frieda Silverwing that these hopes have been disappointed.”
Marina listened as Frieda slowly, but with force still left in her aching voice, began the story of the Human building, and the forests it contained. When the Silverwing elder turned to her and asked her to continue, Marina’s heart beat so quickly, she thought she would faint. All the elders gazed at her, and she tried to quickly tell what she and Shade had seen in the Human building—the way the Humans had treated the bats, how they were carrying them south in their flying machines—and then what the hummingbirds had told her several nights ago, about the Humans using the bats to carry fire.
A defeated silence stretched out when she stopped talking, and she looked at her claws, wishing someone would speak.
“I won’t pretend that we Freetails ever put much faith in the Promise,” said Halo finally. “We’ve thrived in the night, and never had much appetite for the light of day—as I know some have.”
At this she seemed to look directly at Frieda and Achilles Graywing.
“We never thought it worth fighting the owls for the sun, and I know many of you resented us for it. As for the Humans, we’ve lived side by side with them for a hundred years, with no reason to distrust, or trust them. They’ve not disturbed our roosts here, and few of us have been given the bands. But this news of yours, Frieda, does gravely disturb me. If they are using us to carry weapons, we must consider them our enemies, and be more vigilant here on the Bridge. But all our energies now, I think, must be turned toward the owls.”
There was a general rustle of wings in agreement to this.
“We could tolerate the banishment from the day, but these other atrocities we cannot tolerate. The seizure of Hibernaculums, the surprise attacks during the night. Their actions tell us they are intent on war, and we have no choice but to fight.”
Marina looked at Frieda and saw how tired she looked, not just in her face, but in her whole frail body. She looked away, frightened.
“The owls are powerful, but we have here an army the size of which has never been seen before, and we may now have to fight for our very survival.”
“It will be terrible,” said Frieda, and there was such sorrow in her voice that no one spoke for a few moments.
“You surprise me, Frieda,” said Halo, trying to chuckle, as if to wash away the sense of doom that Frieda had created. “You were one of the loudest voices in the rebellion of fifteen years ago. You’ve lost your appetite for battle?”
“I suppose I have, yes,” said Frieda, “because I realized this is not a battle we can win, not alone….”
“But there is no help,” came a bitter voice, another elder. “You yourself have said the Humans are not our friends. So what are our alternatives?”
“We must at least try to talk to the owls. We may find they are our allies.”
“Allies against whom?” asked Halo.
“It seems to me that the most powerful creatures on this earth are the Humans, and they have used both of us for evil ends.”
“Perhaps, but the Humans are not systematically forcing us from our homes,” said Halo impatiently. “As for speaking to the owls, I sent a delegation to them some weeks ago, and they had to flee for their lives before they could even get an audience with King Boreal. We will speak to the owls, yes, if we can, but we must prepare to fight, and fight alone.”
A Freetail swept up from below, breathless from his rapid ascent to the tower. “Halo Freetail,” he said, “a rat envoy has tunneled up beneath one of the piers. They bring offerings of peace, and say that King Romulus is eager to meet with you.”
Hearing the name, Marina felt a surge of surprise and joy. Was it the same Romulus she and Shade had met last fall? Back then, he was far from being a king. Imprisoned in a muddy dungeon by his brother, Prince Remus, he’d managed to save them from being drowned as spies. If Romulus was now indeed king, that could only be good news.
But a tremor of alarm and anger spread through the assembly.
“How dare they tunnel beneath our pier!” said one elder.
“They must be in collusion with the owls,” said another.
“Will you talk to them?” Achilles Graywing asked Halo. “It may be a trap.”
“A preemptive strike to weaken us before the owls come!” cried yet another anxious elder.
“No,” Marina blurted out, and had to shout louder to be heard, “no, I don’t think so. I know him.”
“You know King Romulus?” Halo’s bushy eyebrows shot up dubiously.
“I think so.” Quickly she told Halo Freetail and the others about how she and Shade had met Prince Romulus. “He saved our lives;
he showed us the way back to the surface from the sewers. And I think he’s a friend to all bats.”
“Come with us, then,” said Halo. To her messenger she said, “Summon five of my best guards to accompany me, and alert the garrisons. If this is a trap, we’ll not be taken by surprise.”
As Marina spiraled off the tower, down and down, their group was joined by five formidable Freetail soldiers. They swept beneath the underside of the bridge, and skimmed the water toward the south pier, a huge mountain of stone slammed into the earth.
There, at its foot, was a deceptively casual heap of sticks and straw, but as they neared, a rat appeared, crouched watchfully. Marina realized the sticks must cover the hole they’d tunneled out from. The rat’s whiskers twitched as the bats found roosts overhead on the stone, a safe enough distance from the ground. Marina felt a tremor of dislike and suspicion. Apart from Romulus, Marina’s memories of rats were not pleasant
.
“Halo Freetail,” said the rat, “thank you for coming. King Romulus is here to speak with you.”
With no further fanfare, a solitary large white rat appeared from the shelter of the sticks and looked up at the assembled bats. And as he raised himself on his legs and spread his arms in greeting, Marina saw, with relief, that this was indeed the same Romulus she remembered.
For it was as if he were half a bat himself. A fine membrane of skin stretched between his upper arms and chest, making it look like he had some kind of malformed wing. And on his legs too, you could see these strange flaps of skin between limb and belly, hopeful wings again.
“Halo Freetail, my thanks for giving me an audience, and to all the other elders, my sincerest greetings.”
“What brings you to us in Bridge City?”
“We’re aware of the owls’ rage against you,” said Romulus, “and there seems little reason for it. We will add our voice to yours during any talks.”
“King Romulus, this offer is most kind, and we will gladly accept, though the owls, so far, do not seem inclined to diplomacy.”
Romulus nodded. “If they will not listen to us, we will fight with you.”
A moment of stunned silence burst apart with happy exclamations, and Marina broke into a smile.
“This is a powerful pledge of friendship,” said Halo. “Are you certain you wish to bring this upon your fellow rats?”
“We’ve fought each other too long, the rats and bats,” said Romulus. “It’s time to lay claim to our common past”—and with this he spread his arms again to show his strange half-wings—”for at one time I believe we creatures were fashioned from the same materials.”
“Have you any idea why the owls have embarked on this course?” Halo asked.
“The owls, I know, are claiming that you started this war by killing pigeons in the city, and then other birds through the northern forests, but I know that you are not responsible for this. I have seen the jungle bats who created the carnage—and I know they are no friends of yours, or any bird or beast, for that matter. But I fear the owls are simply using them as an excuse for war—if not this, it would be something else. Their quarrel goes back to the Great Battle of the Birds and the Beasts. But as I said, if it comes to war, we will fight for you beneath and above the earth, on the land, and in the trees.”
A huge cheer went up from the elders, one of delight and huge relief, and Marina could no longer restrain herself.
“King Romulus,” she said, “do you remember me?”
She saw the rat look up at her, and she dropped from her roost and fluttered down to him. She could hear the whispers of surprise from the other elders, and knew she was breaking some kind of rule about distance between different creatures. But she had been closer to rats than this. She settled respectfully at a distance on the ground, and saw Romulus smile.
“Here is a face I remember well,” he said. “You escaped, then!”
“Thanks to you.”
“But where is your friend, the Silverwing?”
“Well, that’s a big story.”
“Tell it, please.”
So Marina shyly told him about what had happened to her and Shade once they’d escaped from the sewers. The rat’s face was pained when she finished with Shade being chained with Human metal and taken away by one of their flying machines.
“We have seen this building, I think,” said Romulus, “though we have not dared to enter it. And I fear it is not the only one of its kind.”
Marina looked up at Frieda and Ariel in horror. “There’re more of them?”
“It would make sense,” said Frieda, “if the Humans need a great many of us to carry their war to the south.”
“We’ve heard rumors from our cousins down there,” Romulus admitted, “though I never knew what to think of them before now. It is appalling. I will send messengers at once, to see if we can tunnel inside these buildings and undermine them. The Humans have never been very good at keeping us out if we want to get in.” He grinned. “The machinery they take so much pride in is, after all, only bits of metal and plastic for us to take apart.”
“We’re going south to find Shade,” said Marina. Romulus looked at her with what seemed like admiration.
“You are brave to attempt a rescue….” He trailed off, thinking. “I cannot go with you, but I can perhaps speed your journey.”
Marina looked at him hopefully, but wondered how rats could travel faster than winged creatures.
“Certainly nothing is faster than flight,” said Romulus, as if hearing her thoughts, “but you may find that the skies, as you go south, may not be as hospitable as these. And more importantly, you cannot travel through all the hours of the day and night. But my barge can, on the underground waterways.”
Marina remembered the maze of tunnels she and Shade had been ferried through on their way to the court of Prince Remus. “They go that far south?” she asked, amazed.
“Oh yes, our system is extensive, and I believe there is a branch … it’s been so long since it’s been used … but it would take you down, yes, I believe it would.”
“You’ve been a good friend to us,” said Marina. “Thank you.”
“The boat is at your disposal, when you’re ready.”
“You’re coming with us, aren’t you?” Marina asked Frieda. She couldn’t explain it, but the bat elder, though frail, made her feel immeasurably safer, as if she generated some kind of protective aura around them.
Frieda smiled sadly and spread her old wings. “Every bat is born with only so many wingbeats. I have too few left. And I am needed here now, I think.”
Marina looked away guiltily. She felt pulled in two different directions: to stay here at Bridge City and fight if need be, or go looking for Shade. She knew what her heart wanted her to do. Was it selfish? Would the others think she was a coward, just trying to avoid war? She didn’t care, she was going after him.
“You must go,” Frieda told her, as if reassuring her. She looked at Ariel. “It’s right that both of you go.”
Marina looked at Frieda and was suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling she would never see her again.
“All right,” she said, glancing down at her claws. She felt the gossamer touch of Frieda’s wing on her head. “Make a safe journey, and bring him back, and Cassiel too.”
Marina forced a smile, said good-bye, and flew off after Ariel, holding on to herself tightly. She hated leaving almost as much as being left behind.
Down by the bridge’s great south pier, a rat messenger was waiting for them. “King Romulus is expecting you,” he said. “Follow me, please.”
These rats were certainly a lot more polite than the ones she and Shade had known. She supposed Romulus had whipped them all into shape when he became king. She didn’t like tunnels; they made her feel breathless, and cramped her wings uselessly against her sides. But the passage wasn’t long, and soon she could hear the sound of water.
Romulus was waiting for them on a large flat stone that jutted out into a swift underground stream. And tied up alongside the rock was his barge, a long and narrow craft exquisitely fashioned out of wood. Just by looking at it, Marina knew it must have been made by Humans. Not even rat artisans could have chiseled something so elaborately detailed. She wondered what purpose it might serve for Humans, though. Much of her life she’d spent on an island, watching Humans come and go in their ships. This wouldn’t even fit a Human child.
“It was found, decades ago, on a Human junk heap,” Romulus explained, “and it’s surprisingly watertight. It’s served me well. It will take you safely south.”
“Thank you,” said Marina.
“I can’t spare many,” the rat continued, “but these few are among my most trusted and able servants.” He introduced her to Ulysses, who would guide the ship south, and who knew the waterways of the world better than many fish. Two hulking soldier rats were to come with them too, as well as Harbinger, one of Romulus’s chief ambas
sadors.
“You’re going well beyond the limits of my kingdom … and I cannot guarantee how you will be received by my southern cousins. Our relations have been … difficult lately. But with Harbinger you will get the best treatment possible. Take care of them,” Romulus said, turning to his rat crew, “and treat them as if it were me you were carrying.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” came the reply.
“Don’t worry,” whispered Romulus in Marina’s ear. “You’ll be safe with them. I’ve made changes since my brother’s reign.”
“What happened to Remus?” she asked.
Romulus smiled faintly. “You imagine I finally overthrew him? No, he overthrew himself. He fled his own kingdom, certain that a plot was afoot to poison him. He left the kingdom in such a shambles that it was not difficult for me to come in and restore order. Good speed, now.”
With Ariel beside her, Marina stepped onto the boat. The rats cast off the line that had tethered it to the stone, and the boat leaped into the current.
Marina’s heart leaped too. On their way. It was a journey and she couldn’t help feeling a sense of jubilation at its beginning. To go south. To find Shade.
PART THREE
ISHMAEL
Inside Statue Haven, Shade hung numbly from his roost, sleepless, watching the first light of day seep up through the long tunnel of the statue’s arm.
He almost hadn’t wanted to return, so filled with shame and dread at having to tell Caliban what had happened. The mastiff had listened grimly and said only, “Your friend paid for your recklessness with his life.”
Shade didn’t have the energy to explain why he’d talked to the owl, what he’d hoped might come of it. It was impossible for him not to think back to Tree Haven, when he was just a newborn, and how he’d dared Chinook to break the laws of dawn and come see the sun with him. He’d done it to shut Chinook up, show him how brave he was—with disastrous consequences. He’d seen a sliver of the rising sun, but the owls had nearly caught him, and later in punishment, burned Tree Haven to the ground.
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