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Silverwing

Page 18

by Kenneth Oppel


  "Throbb," he moaned, his throat clogged with sleep. He coughed, rousing himself. "Throbb!"

  Throbb slept on, oblivious.

  Furious, Goth staggered up and lunged across the cave, ramming Throbb with his snout, tipping his wings to peer beneath them.

  "What?" cried Throbb in alarm.

  "They're gone!"

  "It's still day," said Throbb, squinting out the cave opening. "They can't be—"

  "They're gone!" Goth roared again. He sniffed the ground for their scents. "But not long ago. Get up."

  "Into the light?"

  "Yes."

  "But it's not safe."

  With a quick twist, Goth fastened his jaws around Throbb's wing, letting his sharp teeth bounce up and down on the blisters. Throbb yowled.

  "The winter's not safe," hissed Goth. "And if we don't find that cave of theirs, we'll freeze to death! And you'll go first."

  "All right, yes," whimpered Throbb.

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  They lurched to the cave opening, and launched themselves into the day.

  The wind came up behind them like a demon, but Shade was glad. It meant there would be fewer birds out. And most important, they were being blasted farther and farther away from the cannibal bats. He could tell by the change in temperature and light that the sky was sealed tight with clouds. Already it was hard to steer, and Shade wondered how long they could fly before taking shelter. Below, the ground swept past with alarming speed and he felt barely in control of his wings.

  "How're you doing?" Marina shouted above the wind.

  "Scared/' he said bluntly.

  "Me too."

  "We should be back to the river soon." If I haven't made a mistake, he thought worriedly. He thought he'd picked out some familiar landmarks, but there were stretches of ground that seemed totally new to him. But a few thousand wingbeats later, the stretch of trees was broken by the winding line of the river.

  "There it is!" Shade shouted excitedly.

  And there was an owl, rising from the trees directly in front of them.

  "Lawbreakers!" shrieked the owl.

  He was being blown straight toward it, they both were, and Shade knew they wouldn't escape its claws. No time to veer off, no time to climb higher. And in that endless split second, he remembered the tiger moth he'd hunted so long ago at Tree Haven, how slow and helpless it seemed, but . . .

  He didn't even know if it would work.

  But it was his only chance.

  He closed his eyes and sang a sound picture at the owl. He drew a dozen different bats in the air around them, some soaring higher, some rolling to the side, others plunging to the ground.

  He saw the owl hesitate. Where were the real bats? It was working! He'd thrown it off. But the owl shook its head and its horrible eyes looked straight at them, claws ready to grab and tear.

  Shade tried once more. Crying out, he shot out an echo picture of Goth, three-foot wings spread, claws extended, jaws screeching open . . .

  The owl caught the picture and bellowed in terror, plummeting back down to the trees, not even daring to look back.

  "What'd you do?" Marina exclaimed.

  "A little trick I learned from a tiger moth," he said cockily. "I'll teach it to you sometime."

  A faint metallic tinkle reached his ears, and then dissolved. His whole body tensed. He held his breath, hoping he'd imagined it, hoping for silence.

  "Did you hear that?" Marina asked.

  Shade's heart pumped furiously. He craned his neck around, strained with his eyes, but saw only a black wrinkle in the distance, then nothing, then two wrinkles, gone again. But he heard, clearer now, the familiar metallic whistle, riding on the wind.

  "How far are they?" Marina said.

  "Can't tell. But how'd they know which way we went?"

  "They're not stupid. In a wind like this, there's only one way we could go."

  "Should've chewed up more leaves!" he raged. "Why didn't I? It would've been so easy. There was a whole bush, I could've—"

  "Shade," Marina said. "Up there."

  Boiling up on the horizon was a towering thunder-head.

  "We'll lose them in that," she said.

  He broke through the cloud's underbelly and was tossed around like a leaf. Inside, he was nearly deafened

  by his own echoes, bouncing back at him from all sides. It was like being inside a tiny cave. His sound sight was useless. It wasn't much better than flying blind. He crashed on through the walls of the cloud, unable to see more than a few feet in front of his nose.

  "Marina!" he called out, and his own voice echoed dully.

  From out of the mist she streamed alongside him.

  "I can't see a thing," she said.

  "They won't either," said Shade. "Let's try to break through the top. Then we can circle back, drop below the cloud, and find the river again."

  Together they spiraled clumsily higher through the inside of the thunderhead. They kept losing sight of each other in hills and valleys of black mist. It was getting darker inside, the air almost too thick to breathe.

  "Does your fur feel funny?" Marina whispered.

  Shade glanced at his chest. The hairs were tingling, standing up on end.

  "What's it mean?" he asked.

  The air suddenly smelled different, metallic. The inside of the thunderhead was lit up with a flash of lightning, blinding them for a moment. A clap of thunder knocked the wind out of Shade's chest.

  "We'd better break through the top soon," he wheezed, "or we're going to get struck!"

  They tilted their wings, flapped harder, and a pair of huge jaws thrust out of the wall of mist before them. Shade rolled to one side as Goth lunged, snapping, but missing them both. Goth banked sharply, spinning himself around for a second pass.

  Shade streaked blind through the thunderhead, not knowing where he was going, or where Marina was now. Through a veil of cloud he saw a darkening shadow, growing larger, heading straight toward him. He dove but not fast enough. Throbb burst upon him, raking at his tail with his claws, and hauling him backward through the air.

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  Shade heard Throbb's jaws snap open, ready to take a bite, and he slammed his wings straight up, braking, and flipping backward over the cannibal bat. As he rolled, he took a swipe at Throbb's wounded wing, dragging his claws deep.

  Throbb howled, and snapped his wing tight to his body, careening out of sight.

  Shade hovered for a moment, trying to gather his wits. Go to the top, his instincts told him. That's where we were headed. Marina would go there too.

  All at once the air stung his nostrils, his fur stood on end, and he shut his eyes just in time. The lightning bolt shot past him, so close he could feel its tremendous heat; then thunder hard on its heels, blinding him in both ears.

  He could barely see, barely hear, and he was flying with all the speed he could muster. All he knew was the difference between up and down. For a moment he thought he'd broken clear, but it was just a weird bubble within the thunderhead, like a magical cavern floating in the sky.

  A horrible cry pierced the cloud.

  "Marina!" he shouted in panic. He was sure it was her. "Marina! Where are you?"

  Goth plunged down on him, snatching him up in one of his claws, and piercing his wing in two places. But the cry of pain died in his throat when he saw the glinting, bloody object between Goth's teeth.

  Marina's band.

  Enraged, he tried to claw at Goth's eyes, but the cannibal bat held him away from his body, a harmless runt.

  "Throbb," he called out, "we've got our guide back." He looked back at Shade. "Here's the new deal. You take us to Hibernaculum right now, or I'll rip your insides out."

  Goth suddenly reeled over onto his back, slammed by Marina's bright body.

  "Come on!" she yelled at Shade.

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  He twisted free of Goth's grip and raced toward her. Her forearm was bleeding badly. But before they could d
ive into the sea of cloud, Throbb swung in from the side, blocking their escape. Shade pulled back with Marina, hovering wildly, as Goth and Throbb closed in from either side, wings wide open to catch them.

  The air tingled again, Shade's fur snapping up from his body. The metallic smell was almost overwhelming this time, and it seemed to be coming from Goth and Throbb. His eyes locked onto the metal bands that festooned their bodies. From the black cloud above, a whisker-thin filament of light jumped down and lightly touched one of the bands around Throbb's forearm. The light flicked from side to side playfully.

  "Get back!" he shouted to Marina, closing his eyes tightly.

  The lightning struck in two forks, and Shade watched with his echo vision as Throbb was turned to ashes in a split second. Goth seemed to swell to twice his normal size as the fork hit him, all his fur leaping up from his body, his wings rigid at his sides, stretching, stretching. And the smell, the most terrible smell of burning fur and flesh.

  Then Goth was falling, spinning lifelessly down, his wings burning. He was blown off to one side and swallowed up in the tumultuous darkness of the thunderhead.

  "The lightning—it must have been the metal bands! It hit the bands first!"

  "I saw it," Marina panted. "Lucky Goth took mine."

  He looked at her bloodied forearm with concern.

  "It's okay, it's not broken," she said.

  Together they glided slowly down through the clouds. Shade winced as air whistled painfully through the gashes Goth had left in his wings. They were free! They plunged through the bottom of the thunderhead and back into the open air.

  On the ground Shade gathered up some dried leaves to press against Marina's wound.

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  "I think the bleeding's stopped/' he said after a few minutes. "I could go look for that berry Zephyr used."

  "But what about you?" she asked, staring at his wings. The membrane hung limp in two places.

  "It's okay, I can still fly."

  "I can too, then," she said determinedly, shaking the leaves off. "Let's finish what we started."

  Goth's body lay sprawled across the branches, charred and tattered. Smoke wafted from his burned fur.

  A curious magpie hopped closer, even though the smell was terrible. The bird wasn't even sure what kind of creature this was, the wings and body were so singed. Whatever it was, it was certainly dead. The magpie wondered what had happened. Maybe a collision with one of those Human cables slung across the countryside—it was windy enough today, easy enough to get blown into them. Then again, there'd been lightning.

  The magpie caught a flash of metal on the creature's body. Some kind of sooty ring on the forearm. And look, there were more of them. He hopped closer. He'd never seen a head like that on a bird. What jaws! But his attention fixed back on the bands. That's what he wanted. If he could just tug them off.

  The stench from the creature was truly overwhelming. He dipped down with his beak and plucked at the shiniest of the bands. It was fastened tight. Mesmerized by its sparkle, he darted down again for another try and pulled hard.

  Goth's eyes and jaws snapped open simultaneously. The last thing the magpie ever saw was a double row of sharp teeth streaking toward him.

  After feeding a little on the bird, Goth felt some of his strength return. Every movement was painful, but he was still alive.

  Alive.

  He was truly amazed: Zotz must have been protecting

  him from that bolt of lightning. He wondered if he could still fly. Slowly he unfurled his wings. They were seared and scarred in places, melted by the lightning's heat. Still, he probably had enough wing surface to fly.

  He rested, ate, rested some more. By midnight, he could wait no longer. He had to find out if he could fly.

  Shrieking with pain, he spread his wings, tensed his battered muscles and flapped. He plummeted many feet before the air caught under his wings, and he soared upward.

  He would return to his homeland. He would pray to Zotz. He would become strong again. And then one day he would return to this northern wasteland and take his revenge on Shade and all his colony—so help him Zotz.

  HlBERNACULUM

  The river surged, boiling over boulders.

  He'd been following it with Marina for hours now, hoping that something would click in his head, telling him, finally, how to get to Hibernaculum. It was twilight. The lively burble of the water was building and, in the distance, Shade heard a low rumbling, which reminded him unpleasantly of ocean waves. Louder and louder, the water coursing faster between the banks until—

  The river ended.

  Shade gasped as it simply fell away in a sheer wall, plunging hundreds of feet to crash at the shore of a lake. He circled, staring.

  "Waterfall," Marina said. "I've seen one before. What do we do now?"

  Shade had never seen such a thing. Roaring water falling straight down through the air. There was no more river, nothing more to follow . . . but in an instant he finally understood.

  This was his mother's last landmark: a broad torrent of water crashing between rocky banks, sending up a spray and roaring. He'd just been thinking about it the wrong way around, sideways instead of up and down.

  "We're here," he breathed, and then louder: "This is it!"

  "It is?"

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  "This is Hibernaculum."

  "Where?"

  "Follow me."

  He began a slow dive, straight for the waterfall.

  "Have you flipped out, Shade?"

  "Come on!"

  Marina reluctantly trimmed her wings and followed him.

  He could already feel the mist on his face. As he plunged closer, he saw that the waterfall wasn't really a solid wall at all. The water fell differently all the way across, in fine sheets here, twisting cords there, misty plumes, heavy torrents.

  "Shade? What're you doing?"

  And there, just what he was looking for. Like a knothole in Tree Haven: a tiny circular hole in the middle of an undulating curtain of water. He locked onto it with his sonic eye, making sure it didn't close up.

  "Stay right behind me!" he shouted to Marina.

  He soared straight for the waterfall, folded his wings tight, and shot into the hole. Water thundered deafen-ingly in his ears—or was it his heart?—and even before he was through, he knew what he would see on the other side.

  He burst into a vast cave. Hundreds of Silverwings swirled in the air, and hundreds more hung from the walls and giant stalactites that plunged from the ceiling.

  Hibernaculum.

  The colony had doubled in size, swollen by all the males who joined the females at Stone Hold. He could feel the warmth pouring from their bodies.

  "Hey!" he shouted jubilantly. "Hello!"

  He flew in tight circles with Marina, overwhelmed, his eyes flicking through the cloud of bats, trying to see his mother, Frieda, any familiar face. All these new bats were staring at him in surprise, and he was instantly inundated with questions. "Where did you come from?" and "Were

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  you flying in the daylight?" and "Are you crazy?" and then "Wait, that's the newborn lost in the storm!" and "It can't be!"

  "Yes it is!" he called out. "It's me! Shade! I got lost. But I found you!"

  "Shade?" His mother's voice pierced the din. "Shade!"

  His heart leaped, and he locked onto her with his echo vision. He wanted to fly to her instantly, but he couldn't leave Marina by herself.

  "Come on," he said to her. "Come meet my mother."

  With Marina at his side, he went to Ariel. They swirled around one another in amazement and glee before roosting on a ledge. Shade pushed his face into her warm, fragrant fur. Her wings enfolded him.

  "We thought you were dead!"

  "No," he said happily. "I'm alive. Mom, this is Marina. I met her after I got lost in the storm. Without her I probably would be dead."

  Marina had settled a little ways off, watching awkwardl
y. Ariel stretched out her wing to her. "Come closer," she said gently. "Thank you." She nuzzled the Brightwing in gratitude.

  "Well, it worked both ways," Marina said. "We helped each other out."

  Ariel turned back to Shade, shaking her head. "Tell me what—" she broke off, seeing the punctures in his wings. "You're hurt!"

  "It's not bad, really."

  "And you are too," she said to Marina, looking at her bloody forearm. "We need to have that tended to—"

  "It's not important right now," Shade said impatiently. He was about to explode with words. "Mom, Cassiel's alive!"

  Her eyes narrowed in disbelief. "But . . . how do you know?"

  "Zephyr told us, the albino bat, you know, the Keeper of the Spire, in the city. He can see into the past and the

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  future and—" He took a deep breath, let it out in a rush.

  "Start from the beginning."

  It was Frieda, fluttering down to roost beside them. "Welcome back, Shade."

  "I made it!" he told her gleefully.

  "So I see." The bat elder's eyes crinkled with a smile as she reached out and touched Shade's head. "And I'm sure you have a lot to tell."

  Starting from the beginning was agony for Shade.

  He wanted to keep leaping ahead; he wanted to say everything at once. But he forced himself to go slowly. His wings were spread flat, his wounds covered with soothing berry juice. It wasn't just Zephyr who knew about potions after all. Frieda had insisted on tending to their injuries before she allowed them to begin. And now, Shade and Marina told their story together, each filling in any incident or detail the other missed out.

  The whole colony was listening, spellbound. Even though it was well past twilight, and they could have been out hunting, preparing for their big sleep, the Silverwings chose to stay and hear what this young Silverwing and his Brightwing friend had to say.

  As he spoke Shade picked out Aurora, Lucretia, and Bathsheba, roosting above him, and to one side, the four male Silverwing elders, whose names he didn't even know. They were very old, their fur bristling with silver and gray and white, and they peered down at him intently. He had a flash memory of himself in the upper roost at Tree Haven, stammering and afraid, but this time he was too deep inside his story to feel nervous.

 

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