The Beginning After The End 08

by Turtle Me

  “It’s beautiful,” Caera said, having pulled herself halfway out of the snow beside me.

  “Brr’ahk!”

  The screeching squawk was so sudden and so close that I acted on instinct, bringing one arm over my head and the other over Caera to defend against an attack from the sky. Caera stumbled from my sudden action, using my body for support as she sank down into the snow with a puff of powder.

  Behind me, there was a flutter of wings and another harsh crow.

  Whirling my body in the deep snow, I spotted a tall, thin birdlike creature just several feet behind us. It had long black legs, thin as sticks, a teardrop-shaped body covered in gleaming white feathers, broad wings that it tucked tightly to its sides, and a gracefully curving neck.

  Its neck was currently twisted to the side, tilting its head comically. Two vibrantly violet eyes shone from behind its jet-black beak, which was shaped like the head of a javelin. The beak opened and snapped shut two, then three times, the sharp crack echoing across the caldera.

  I waited with caution, uncertain if the creature was hostile or simply curious. Instead, Caera was the one to act first.

  “Uh, hello,” she said softly.

  “Uh, hello,” it mimicked back in its high-pitched, rasping voice. The egret-like aether beast stepped to the side, then took a series of shuffling, back and forth steps that almost looked like some kind of dance, after which it flapped wide wings to flutter several feet to the left.

  ‘I think big bird here likes Caera,’ Regis teased. ‘That looked like some kind of mating ritual to me.’

  “More like it was writing something,” I mused out loud. As if to reinforce this idea, the creature gestured sharply toward the series of claw prints in the snow with its spear-like beak.

  “Writing what?” Caera asked, her tone clipped as she grumpily extricated herself from the snow once again. “Oh.”

  Moving slowly so as not to spook the creature, I pulled myself free of the snow and moved to stand over the series of interwoven claw marks. It did look remarkably like writing, though it wasn’t in a language I could read.

  Caera appeared beside me, her hands tucked under her armpits as she hugged herself for warmth. It wasn’t as cold as it had been before, I realized. The temperature was still below freezing, but well within a talented mage’s ability to survive with the effective use of mana.

  “Do you have any idea what it’s trying to tell us?” she asked, gazing down at the prints in the crystalline snow.

  “Not a clue,” I replied, racking my brain for a way to communicate with the being. It was clearly intelligent, possessing written communication and perhaps even its own spoken language. It had the ability to mimic the noises we made, so, theoretically and with enough time, I might be able to teach it the common tongue, but that could take months, or even longer.

  “Not a clue,” it mimicked again, hopping side to side nervously. Then it turned and flew fifteen or so feet away, set back down, and turned to us, one wing flapping toward a mountainous ridge in the distance.

  “Maybe it wants us to follow it,” Caera said as I met her red eyes.

  “What other choice do we have?” I asked in a resigned sort of way. “I’d say we either eat it or follow it.”

  Nodding, she took several steps through the deep snow, each footfall breaking through the hard crust with a cracking, crunching sound. The wind had left the deep, powdery snow with a half-frozen shell on top, making each step difficult, but at the same time preventing us from sinking in over our heads again.

  Once we’d come within a few feet of the bird, it flapped its broad wings and flew another twenty or thirty feet, then waited for us to catch up.

  We repeated this again and again, marching along after our guide in silence as it led us up the side of the caldera and into a narrow ravine, then up a naturally occurring switchback trail that climbed high into a mountain of sharp, dark rock. Despite the sub-freezing temperature, the laborious climb warmed us, and I didn’t even need to circulate aether within me to ward off the cold.

  ‘Are you sure it isn’t going to lead us up to a cliff and just push us off?’ Regis asked after an hour of scrambling along the treacherous mountain path.

  No, I answered honestly. But that seems like a lot of trouble for a meal. Besides, it doesn’t seem very strong. There’s definitely aether circulating within it, but I don’t think it’s a fighter.

  ‘My point exactly,’ Regis groused.

  Eventually, we reached a place where the trail became a steep vertical climb. Our guide flew up to the top of the sheer cliff, perched on a little outcropping of the dark rock, and waited.

  The cliff face was only forty feet or so, and the weathered stone had plenty of hand and footholds, but I was admittedly strained after having used so much of my aether to shield us against the hail.

  “Ladies first,” I said, gesturing for Caera to start the climb.

  Her brows turned down as she glared at me, and her eyes flicked from me to the steep descent behind us and back. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was considering pushing me down the mountainside, but in the end she just sighed and started searching for a path up the cliff.

  I stayed right below her, hoping to catch her if she fell, but it wasn’t Caera who slipped.

  About halfway up the cliff, I missed a handhold and my toe slipped from the crack in which I’d wedged it. My stomach lurched as I grabbed for a protruding piece of rock, but in my haste I crushed the rock in my fist, fell back out of reach of the wall, and tumbled the twenty feet back to the ground, landing with a thud at the base of the cliff.

  From above, I heard, “Cra’kah!” followed by, “You alive?” Caera was grinning at me from above.

  Grunting, I stood and dusted myself off. “Keep going. I’ll—I’ll be right up…” I said hoarsely.

  I watched from below as the highblooded Alacryan woman moved up the wall like a trained mountain climber. Only after she’d heaved herself over the ledge above did I attempt the climb again, this time pushing aether through my legs and leaping as high as I could, then slamming my aether coated hands like wedges into the narrow cracks.

  Looking down, I had covered over a quarter of the climb with a single leap.

  Getting a good foothold, I repeated the maneuver, throwing myself upward another twenty feet or so, then wedging my hands into a series of cracks, widening them and causing a shower of stone chips and dust.

  Caera peeked down from the top of the cliff just as I threw myself upward for the third time. She shook her head. “Why not just grow wings and fly, Grey?”

  “Maybe someday,” I grunted as I climbed the final few feet and scrambled up onto the ledge. Ahead of us, the cliff’s edge sloped downward into a hollowed-out basin surrounded by jagged peaks of black stone. Squat little huts huddled throughout the basin, each one built of woven sticks, branches, and thick brown grass.

  Most had tattered bits of cloth hung across their doorways, which were decorated with more of the bird-foot-shaped letters.

  Several of the bird folk were milling about the little village; all had stopped to stare at us, their bright eyes shining within the gloomy hollow. Most were stark white, with black legs and beaks, but a few had mottled gray feathers and one stood out due to its jet-black coloring.

  Our guide snapped its beak several times and let out a series of sharp cawing noises that sounded to me like words, then waved one wing toward us as if to say, “Follow me.”

  Having already come that far, we did as it asked, and it led us hopping down through the center of the small village and toward the largest of the nest-like huts. The other bird folk watched us pass, their feathers ruffled and eyes darting around with curiosity and fear. A couple even took flight, soaring up into the peaks above us, where I noticed smaller nests hidden amongst the crags.

  As we approached the largest hut, which sat at the rear of the hollow, built right up against the black stone wall, a truly anci
ent-looking creature pressed aside the gray-blue cloth and hobbled out to meet us.

  Our guide began to click and caw rapidly, occasionally turning to us to gesture sharply with its beak or wave its wings.

  I watched the old bird creature carefully as it listened. Its white feathers had turned gray and fallen out in many places, and its thin legs were bent and knobbly and had developed pink splotches. Several of its claws were broken, and a lightning-bolt crack ran from the tip of its beak all the way to where it disappeared into its bumpy flesh. Three deep, pink scars ran across its face, leaving one eye glassy white instead of rich purple like the other.

  After our guide finished chattering, the elder turned to me and bowed slightly, its wings unfurling as it did so. In a voice as old and cracked as its beak, it said, “Welcome, ascenders, to the village of the Spear Beak tribe. The ancient ones have told me to expect your arrival.”

  I gaped at the old bird, stunned by his clear use of our language.

  Caera, however, returned the shallow bow without missing a beat and replied politely, “Thank you, elder, for the warm welcome.”

  A slight nudge at my own foot turned my attention to the Alacryan noble, who was looking at me and gesturing with her eyes to follow her lead.

  “Thank you,” I said evenly, dipping my head as well.

  We have no choice, but we’re in a pretty vulnerable position right now so be on the lookout, I warned Regis.

  ‘Fair enough. Want me to just come out? Scare them a bit?’

  No, just pay attention. You’ll know if I need you.

  “Come, come,” the elder of the Spear Beak tribe squawked, gesturing with one wing toward its hut. “Enter. Sit. Talk. Then you may join with the Spear Beaks in a feast, should you wish.”

  I could hear Caera’s stomach grumble from the very mention of the word ‘feast’, which made her blush in embarrassment.

  “My apologies, elder, but we’re in a hurry and we’d just like some information.” My eyes flickered to Caera, who was pressing her hands against her stomach. “And perhaps a light meal we can take with us.”

  “You wish to activate the portal out, no?” the elder asked, tilting his head.

  Hiding my surprise by his knowledge of our motives, I answered evenly. “Yes. We would like to activate the portal in order to leave.”

  “If that is the case, you must first listen and learn,” the elder said as he scratched the lightning-bolt scar on its beak with its wing.

  Caera’s scarlet eyes turned to me for answers, but I could only shrug in response before turning back to the tribe elder. “We humbly accept your offer then.”

  “Good, good!” The old bird’s mismatched eyes narrowed in what I felt was a smile as he gestured us toward his hut with his wings.

  After taking one last look behind me, my eyes quickly tracking across the bird villagers all staring back at us, we entered the hut.

  313

  The Four Clans

  It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the change in light, as the inside of the Spear Beak elder’s hut was dim, unlit except for the thin columns of light that flowed in through gaps in the woven sticks and from around the edge of the door hanging.

  The hut’s interior was simple: a large bed of feathers, brown grass, and tufts of fluffy white fur dominated the space, and a single copper wash basin full of water rested next to the door. A thin layer of ice had formed on the surface.

  Hanging around the hut from the small loose ends of the branches were what looked like trophies: several necklaces made of large fangs and small bones, the pelt of a four-armed creature I didn’t recognize, and a row of feline skulls.

  ‘Quite the morbid sense of decor from our feathered friends,’ Regis thought.

  We can’t be sure they’re friendly yet, I warned as my gaze flicked from item to item until my attention landed back on the necklace made of talons. Don’t those look pretty similar to the ones left at the altar?

  As the elder shuffled into his bed and squatted down, his spindly legs folded beneath him and I got a better look at his clawed toes.

  ‘I think you’re right,’ Regis affirmed. ‘Now the bigger question is, did they put them there or one of the bear beasts? I think—’

  Regis’s voice was drowned out as my eyes focused on something far more interesting. As the elder shuffled in his nest, for just a moment I caught the purple glimmer of aether beneath the bedding. There was some kind of relic hidden within, I was sure of it. Maybe even a piece to the portal.

  “Sit, sit,” the old bird croaked, waving his wing around the hut.

  Giving no indication that I’d noticed anything, I sat on the hard packed-earth floor around the bed, thinking it might be rude of us to intrude on the elder’s resting place, and Caera took a seat next to me. Unsure where to start, I stayed silent and waited for the Spear Beak to continue.

  “Silence is wisdom,” the old bird said sagely, nodding his black beak up and down. “Long, very long since an ascender has visited us.”

  “We have many questions, elder, but first, what should we call you?” I asked politely.

  The gray old bird clacked his beak and honked in a way that I couldn’t hope to replicate, then it laughed, a sound like grain being milled. “In your words, Old Broke Beak.”

  Smiling at the accuracy of Old Broke Beak’s name, I held my hand to my chest and said, “And I’m—Ar…” I stopped, stumbling over the words as I nearly said, “I’m Arthur.”

  “This one is Grey,” Caera cut in, glancing at me strangely from the corner of her eye, “and I’m Caera. It’s an honor to meet you, Old Broke Beak.”

  “How is it you’ve come to know our tongue?” I asked, hoping to move the conversation past my near-mistake.

  Despite our urgency to leave this zone, I was incredibly curious about these Spear Beaks. Since being reborn into this world, I hadn’t met a mana or aether beast as intelligent as these creatures.

  Had the djinn been so powerful that they created sentient, intelligent life simply to populate their trials? It seemed implausible.

  “Another ascender, wise enough to listen, taught me when I had only just learned to fly.” The elder clacked his beak several times, ruffled his feathers, and pecked at the bedding underneath him before continuing. “I have kept this knowledge, and shared your words with every ascender to find us since—or tried. Many are not wise enough to hear the words.”

  I nodded along as our host spoke, imagining the types of powerful ascenders who might have reached this zone only to attack every aether beast they saw without realizing they weren’t monsters.

  But if they’re able to fight off ascenders powerful enough to arrive in this zone…

  ‘Then these guys must be stronger than they look,’ Regis finished.

  “I am glad you have come, and you bring wisdom with you,” the old bird went on. “We need you, and you need us.”

  Caera leaned forward, her scarlet eyes boring into the Spear Beaks purple ones. “You know where the broken pieces of the portal are?”

  “The clans keep them, yes, but they won’t give them to you, no.” Old Broke Beak shook his wizened head, his long beak cutting back and forth in the air like a sharp blade.

  “The clans?” Caera asked.

  “Four clans, yes, and the wild things, the mindless things, they carry one too, but they always hunt for the others. The wild things are sleepless and fearless and forever greedy.” The elder leaned forward, looking from Caera to me then back again. “But the clans are worse. Cruel. Stupid. Four Fists, Ghost Bears, Shadow Claws… only the Spear Beaks know wisdom.”

  “Ghost Bears?” I asked, thinking of the invisible bearish creature we fought under the dome, squatting far below us now at the bottom of the caldera.

  “Huge, hungry monsters,” the elder said ominously, ruffling his feathers as if shivering. “Ghost Bears kill as if it’s a game, moving unseen through the storms, raiding in the night. If you f
ind one”—he leaned forward again, his cracked beak coming within inches of my face—“kill it, or it will hunt you forever. Ghost Bears never give up a kill.”

  I only nodded, carefully keeping my thoughts from my face. The Ghost Bear we’d seen hadn’t seemed like a murderous killing machine. In fact, it had seemed cautious and curious, then fled before harming any of us.

  ‘We could’ve just scared it,’ Regis pointed out. ‘The… Ghost Bears or whatever can’t have seen many people, much less someone that could actually see them like we were able to.’

  You might be right, I admitted, but I was still unsure. I didn’t want to give away our knowledge of the Ghost Bears, though, so I instead pressed the Spear Beak elder for more details about the other clans.

  “The others… just as bad, yes. Four Fists clan are like you, yet not like you. Short legs, long arms thick as a grown Spear Beak’s breast. Squashed, ugly faces, with teeth like this.” Using its feathered wings, Old Broke Beak mimed large, misshapen tusks or fangs.

  “Shadow Claws live to fight, to kill.” Old Broke Beak indicated the row of feline skulls. “They stalk us, climb the peaks and hurl our eggs from their nests.”

  Caera was listening somberly to the old bird speak. She shook her head when he mentioned eggs. “That’s horrible. I’m so sorry, Broke Beak.”

  “You said we needed each other,” I reminded him, eager to bring the conversation back around to the portal pieces. “So each of these clans holds a piece of the portal out of this zone? Why?”

  Old Broke Beak closed his eyes, his long neck swaying gently as if he were singing a song in his head. When his purple eyes finally opened again, there was a sense of the ancient about him, a weariness that rolled off him like an aura.

  “Long, very long have I thought on this. Always the Spear Beaks have tried to spread wisdom to the other clans, but now I know they cannot learn it. The others will not give you the pieces. You must destroy them. All of them. Take their pieces. When you have the others, I will give you the piece long guarded by the Spear Beaks.”