A Perjury of Owls

by Michael Angel

  I had to hold my breath as I squeezed around the interior of my garage to get to my car. For now, my barely-two-car garage was jammed tight between my chest freezer, my commute car, and the OME van. I’d have custody of the van and all the forensics equipment inside for at least another week or two.

  That stopped me dead in my tracks.

  I had custody of all the forensics equipment inside…

  Time was of the essence, but I could spare a little more for poor Perrin.

  I continued my side-shuffle gait until I got around the rear of the van. Since my garage was longer than it was wide, I had room to halfway open the back doors. I pulled out a couple things I needed, closed the van back up, and then inhaled to work my way back into the house.

  One quick stop to retrieve the bundle of feathers from my dresser, and I spread out everything across the desk in my study. I reached into the OME bag and first set up one of the portable field microscopes. Then I pulled on a set of clean latex gloves and used a pair of fine forceps to move all but one of Perrin’s feathers into a sterile plastic bag.

  The single feather I kept to place on the microscope plate was small, but it was definitely of the type that I wanted to look at. I was no bird veterinarian, but I’d helped my mom and sister raise and care for a pair of cockatiels, so I knew the basics. Young birds had an abundance of ‘pin’ feathers on their bodies, although I knew them as ‘blood’ feathers.

  Blood feathers were distinguished from fully developed ones in that they still had an active blood supply flowing to the base of the shaft. This supplied the feather with nutrients and encouraged growth. It also meant that when this kind of feather was pulled from a bird’s wing or body, bleeding could result.

  I zeroed in on the base of the feather shaft with the microscope’s lens, looking for that bleeding. I shifted the plate around until I found a couple of good views. What I found both puzzled me and raised the hackles on my darkest suspicions.

  For starters, the little flecks of blood stuck to the shaft had a curiously washed-out look. Dried blood was supposed to look like a dark cake of protein strings caused by the clotting factors. Here, everything was a still tacky-looking light pink.

  Then I looked at the cellular structure of the underlying quill base. It should have been a healthy latticework of tissues set out in layers like shingles on a shake roof. Instead, the ‘shingles’ were pockmarked with tiny lesions, dark pits against a waxy yellow-orange background.

  Everything I saw pointed to the abnormal breakdown of red blood cells in the owlet’s body. It looked just like the mark of one specific condition: hemolytic anemia. And progressive anemia could lead to shortness of breath, chronic fatigue, and even death. The horrible thing was, this kind of disease could be inherited genetically, like with the sickle-cell variety.

  But it could also be induced slowly, by poison.

  I knew, all the way from when I was ten and studying what cockatiels ate, that certain compounds called thisulfinates could kill them quite easily. These compounds systematically tore apart the birds’ red blood cells. It was one reason why we kept the birds away from kids who wanted to feel them chocolate.

  Andeluvia, so far as I knew, didn’t have chocolate. But I’d tasted onions, garlic, leeks, and chives in the food there, and those were all rich sources of thisulfinates. A little certainly wouldn’t kill a large, healthy owl. In fact, even a large dose probably wouldn’t do more than make them feel more than under the weather for a day or two.

  But what about a young, sickly owlet? What would a steady diet of these sulfinate compounds do to him? And what if the diet had been administered over the course of a year? Which, I realized, was roughly how long the Noctua physicians had been ‘caring’ for Xandra’s son.

  There was a lot of ‘what-ifs’ in that string of logic. Too much to stand up to in court. But it put a renewed chill in my gut as I packaged everything back up and hurried back to my car.

  A quick turn of the key and a jab to the garage door button, as I was on my way. I turned up Los Feliz boulevard and headed east, away from downtown. At this time of day, I’d be fighting lunch-crowd traffic. I was on a tight schedule, so I’d have to take the chance that Glendale, the next town over, would have what I wanted.

  I managed to skid into a parking spot in front of the same sporting goods store that I'd purchased from before I’d visited the Reykajar aerie. In fact, I’m pretty sure I got the same clerk. His eyes showed recognition and puzzlement as I asked to buy yet another backpack.

  Only this time, I was willing to pony up for something better than the floor model. It wasn’t just the extra carrying space I wanted. I also wanted something that was less visible from the air. My original pack was Day-Glo orange, which was so easy to spot that I might as well have sent up a signal flare.

  That got me thinking. I dug out my credit card and made an extra purchase.

  Once I’d stored my new goods in the trunk, I put a call in to an electronics store I’d stopped in once to buy new cables for my computer. They’d impressed me by not laughing when I ceded defeat in ‘wirelessly’ hooking up my computer, printer, and television. And as it happened, they had exactly what I was looking for. One larger-than-I’d-wanted charge later, and it was ready for pickup.

  Andeluvia may be a magical place, but Los Angeles definitely has its benefits, I admitted to myself. At least, if you have a car and a credit line.

  * * *

  That good feeling persisted, even with the stomach-lurching trip back to Andeluvia. This time, Liam braced me on one side while Shaw steadied me on the other with an outstretched wing. I reached out myself and gave each of them a one-handed hug; there were times I quite literally needed their support, and they were always right there.

  “We’ve been studying Xandra’s maps while waiting for you,” Liam said, nodding towards the board. “Galen’s going to put an extra charge your medallion, so that you can transport Shaw, Xandra, and me along with you.”

  “That sounds great,” I allowed, as I slipped the medallion’s chain over my head and handed it to the wizard. “But I’ve never been to the Noctua’s hideout. I can’t visualize it in my head to transport us there. And none of you are tuned in to the medallion.”

  Galen pressed the makeshift silver amulet between his palms and then turned away from us. He began concentrating, chanting under his breath as wisps of white energy began to seep from the cracks between his hands. I found it hard to tear my attention away as Liam went on.

  “After looking over Xandra’s map I realized that this Eight-Taloned Sepulcher is only two, maybe three leagues northwest of where Ardan and I met you on Sir Talish’s lands.”

  “Some of your Fayleene luck might be finally rubbing off on me,” I agreed. “I can definitely get us that far. Then we’ll have a few hours of hiking ahead of us.”

  Shaw let out a sniff. “Perhaps thou dost wish to arrive in a more regal manner: riding a griffin, not crawling upon the earth.”

  I gently scratched Grimshaw on the top of his head, the way he liked it. “That would be noble indeed,” I said, while Liam rolled his eyes. “But hardly stealthy. I have some different ideas there, but I’m just glad that you could make it.”

  “Nay, ‘tis I who is glad,” Shaw said, between purrs. “And move we must. Whilst I was eating outside the royal kitchens a duel broke out between two knights-errant as to who might be paid their due on the morrow. I only stopped the two miscreants by threatening to consume the loser.”

  “Damn it, things are going to start coming apart even faster. By the next morning the King’s treasury should be running seriously low and then people are really going to be feeling the pinch placed upon them by the owls.”

  “Surely, thy monarch shall stand firm.”

  “I hope so. But I honestly don’t know how long Fitzwilliam can support my cause. Not when all of his lords and knights are arrayed against me.”

  “And if we are not present with you at all times,” Galen cautioned, as
he finished his incantation, “I would be most concerned for what that mob of rabble might do to you, should they perceive you as the nexus of their financial problems.”

  “Now there is a pretty good rationale for leaving the palace for an extended vacation,” Liam said. “Since the aerie isn’t an option, why not move to the Grove of the Willows with my people?” He glanced at my new pack as I slipped it off my back. “It looks like you’re prepared to stay a while in the woods, in any case.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I brought some more gear for us. Hopefully, stuff that will help us avoid confronting the Noctua at all.”

  “I have something that might help, should the worst come to pass,” Galen said, and he handed me a foot-long, blunt-tipped wooden stick. “This is a wand I’ve enchanted with three charges of stun-magic, similar to Soothsayer Zeno’s staff. Merely hold it firmly, point it at your target, and blink three times in quick succession to unleash a charge.”

  I hefted the wand. It felt reassuringly solid. “I like it.”

  “It is my hope that this item will prevent you from killing any of the Noctua. In my learned opinion, every death of an owl will make it more difficult to reconcile the rest of the Parliamentarians to our cause.”

  “One must be sure to use one’s magic only as a last resort,” Xandra piped up. “The Noctua have placed wards around the mouth of the sepulcher both to warn them of any kind of magic, as well as to block such spellcraft.”

  I considered. “What range are we talking about?”

  “One does not know,” she said sadly. “One was not privy to such secrets.”

  “Detection wards are relative simple to craft,” Galen informed me. “Most can detect any kind of spell, whether previously invoked or not, for at least two hundred yards. Anti-magic wards have a much more limited range, usually ten or fifteen yards.”

  “That’s going to make it difficult to sneak up close,” I said grimly. “I was hoping to rely on your magic or Liam’s to conceal us as we drew near. We might have an entire army of owl warriors ready to swoop down on us before we get within a furlong on the place.”

  “One knows that the Sepulcher of the Eight Talons is a place of worship and healing,” Xandra said, in her sweet nun’s voice. “It is a sacred space, not an armed camp. No more than a dozen Noctua remain there, and none carry the key and sigil of a jailer. The Albess must simply be too weak to move on her own, for they would not dare forcibly imprison the holiest of the holy.”

  I had my doubts about that, but the news of fewer owls to deal with cheered me up. I zipped open my pack and started laying out the materials I’d picked up at the electronics store. All four of the magical creatures in the room crowded around to look at the mess of plastic shells and wiring.

  “The way I figure it,” I began, “The Noctua need to be moved out of the way so that we can enter the sepulcher. So I asked myself: What would call a dozen or more owl warriors out to defend their holy space?”

  The room went silent as I explained how we were going to make that very thing happen.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  I’ll admit to feeling a little blessed to have hands with extremely limber digits, as compared to Shaw or Liam. But on days like today – where the wind cut like an icy knife against my face – there were times I’d have traded my numb fingers for a coat of fur or feathers. The sky was a low-hanging gray ceiling over dark evergreen columns and row upon row of withered sunflower stalks.

  Once I shook off the effects of the transport, I looked around at the familiar landmarks to orient myself. The little pond, now trimmed at the edges with lacy fingers of ice, lay in front of me. I turned around slowly until I spotted the copse of trees to the north and west.

  Shaw had once again unfurled his wings to keep from falling over. He grumbled something about ‘having a word’ with our wizard friend about improving his transport spells. Liam nudged Xandra with his moist deer nose, rousing the Parliamentarian from where she’d keeled over on the ground.

  The owl seemed no worse for wear, though she flew unsteadily for a moment as she took off and perched atop the nearest tall pine. My neck gave a twinge as she rotated her head around in that unnaturally wide sweep that only owls could do. Then she fluttered back down to a low-hanging branch to speak to us.

  “The way to Roost from this place lies almost straight against the winds of ice. It is not a far distance for this one to cover swiftly, but this one must also rally her people and spread word of the plan from she-from-another-world.”

  “That’s what I figured,” I said. I took off my backpack, set it on the ground, and began taking out the items I’d pre-fitted for each of my companions. “Let’s get all of us kitted up before you have to go.”

  Back in my world I’d purchased four wireless radio headsets with adjustable headpieces and boom mics. The toughest part had been adapting the receivers, which came as hard plastic plugs for human earholes. The shop in Glendale had been able to swap them out for a full-sized leather ear cushion for Shaw and miniature foam pads for Liam and Xandra.

  Each unit had a hands free mode where one could shrug or nudge the receiver to toggle the volume up and down, but I still had to jury rig a way to keep the sets from falling off my friends’ different sized heads. Since I had no time to figure anything out I took the least elegant and simplest route. I brought a roll of duct tape and wound a single silvery oval of the stuff around each of their heads. It would be hard to scrape off without hands, and the residue left wouldn’t be pleasant to remove either, but for now that was a small worry.

  I’d carry the radio’s base station powered by four AA batteries in my pack. With some luck we’d be able to coordinate remotely over a couple hundred yards, assuming line-of-sight conditions. Then I finished up by using cargo net webbing to strap a second electronic device to Shaw’s chest. I put on my own headset, switched on the base station, and spoke into the mic.

  “Testing, testing,” I stated, and each of the creatures around me jumped as my voice echoed in their ears. “Sounds like you can all hear me just fine.”

  “One has not seen sorcery like this!” Xandra cried. “It is as if one carries she-from-another world’s voice in her head!”

  Liam winced. “And we can hear you too, just as loudly.”

  “I shall try and keep mine own voice low,” Shaw chuckled, as Liam quickly flexed his cheek a couple of times to turn the volume down. “Thy Fayleene friend’s ears seem over-delicate for this sort of work.”

  Liam glared back and seemed ready to retort, but I stepped in. “Enough, guys. We’re on a tight enough schedule as it is.”

  “Farewell, then,” Xandra said, in a voice just above a whisper. “This one’s people shall be ready for your signal, should you need them.”

  “Good. If you don’t hear my signal, stay hidden unless you see that we’re in trouble. There’s no use in putting your people at risk for no reason.”

  Xandra leapt from her branch and into the sky. She vanished into the low cloud cover. I repacked my pack, shifting a few items around so that I could get at them more easily in the pockets of my cloak. I still had my shoulder holster and my gun with me, but I was able to stick the stun-wand into my belt.

  “Okay, based on what Xandra told us we should be moving through areas that the Noctua regularly patrol from the air. Liam and I are going to stick to the cover of the trees as much as we can, but we’ll need an eye in the sky. Let’s see if these receivers have the distance we need.”

  “Aye, that’s no problem,” Shaw stated regally. With a mighty downbeat of his wings, he took to the air, vanishing into the sky above. A few seconds passed, then his voice came in faint but clear. “Canst thou hear me now?”

  “There’s no mistaking the gut-churning noise of a griffin,” Liam acknowledged, a tight little smile on his deer face.

  “‘Tis all our prey must endure in the split second before we slaughter them,” Shaw replied, in the same playful tone. I supposed that I c
ouldn’t blame them for having fun with the ‘new magic’, but it made me roll my eyes all the same.

  “What’s it look like up there?” I asked, trying to stick to business.

  “All ‘tis bright to mine eyes up here,” the griffin replied. “The clouds lie thick, but there are gaps ahead. I shall be able to pass on a timely warning. Art thou sure that the Noctua shall not take exception to a griffin? I am hardly one to be missed aloft.”

  “Xandra said that griffins are rare up here, but they do hunt in the area. They’ll note your passing but won’t take alarm.”

  That’s if they don’t spot the silver wrapping of duct tape around your head, or all the oddball stuff strapped to your body, I thought wryly. I was stuck with praying that the local Noctua weren’t going to be interested in getting close enough to Shaw to check him out too closely.

  I dug into a pocket and pulled out a compass. But as soon as I held it up, Liam gave me a look that all but said ‘oh, come on’. The Fayleene Protector snorted and sniffed the air, orienting himself. Then he indicated the way north and west with a toss of his antlers. He headed out at a fast walk, and I fell into line behind him as we trudged into the trees.

  The next hour or two passed in near silence, the only sounds being Shaw’s occasional faint check-ins and the harsh pants of my breathing. Liam’s hooves made no noise at all, even crossing leaf litter or the occasional two inch high drift of snow. The gray cloud cover grew more tattered, like a moth-eaten blanket, but fat white flakes began to swirl down from the ones that remained.

  Liam did his best to keep us on the quickest route north and west, only making exceptions for my poor human form to walk around obstacles that he could have forded in a single bound. In fact, he was doing such a good job as a guide that I was able to tune out all but the plod of my feet. That left a sizable chunk of my brain free to examine the clues and questions that were swill swirling inside my head.