Blue Dawn Jay of Aves

by Gary J. Davies

CHAPTER 12

  A NEW QUEST

  Blue and the creeper flew wearily towards the next thicket to continue their seemingly endless search for Strike True and the Council. It was the second day of Blue’s slow, stealthy search and time was growing short. Though it was late in the day, the twin suns still rained enough energy down to make it stiflingly hot, even within the shady forest. In the summer birds normally rested frequently during the heat of the day, but there would be no rest for Blue and Brownie. There were still thousands of thickets to search.

  The search was agonizingly slow. Normally, any birds in an area could be easily located through use of song, but Blue and the hiding songbirds were fearfully silent now as they tried to avoid the attention of the Black Flock that patrolled relentlessly overhead. Without open use of song the task seemed hopeless. The forest was eerily silent. Only the occasional harsh cries of blackbirds could be heard above the sound of leaves fluttering in the gentle summer breeze and the buzzing of flying crawlers that were busily devouring the dead.

  Blue and Brownie found many living but terrified songbirds in the thickets they visited, and far too many wounded or dead birds. Death was a natural part of Blue’s world, and he had seen it many times, but never anything like this. Death normally happened because of old age, sickness, disease, hunger, predator, careless accident, or natural disaster. It usually happened to one bird at a time. It was understandable when it occurred, perhaps even reasonable. This holocaust was mindless, senseless, wasteful and disgusting. Many hundreds of birds had died, many of them jays. The fact that there were more dead blackbirds than dead jays was little consolation.

  Blue examined each dead jay he found with growing dread, fearing that he would discover the remains of one of his close friends or of his father Strike True. He was upset when even without their song he did recognize several lifeless members of Strike True's flock, including two jays that he had numbered as close friends. But there was no sign of Strike True.

  They encountered no living jays. However, from snippets of information obtained from the hiding songbirds, Blue gradually pieced together what had happened. Large flocks of blackbirds had quietly and unhindered approached the Council from the south had attacked without warning. The ensuing battle between the Strike True's jay flock and the Black Flock was fierce and fairly even until additional, greater blackbird flocks arrived.

  At that point the jays retreated south, while advising other songbirds to hide. Most birds the Blue encountered reasoned that they should be safe, as the jays and Council members seemed to be the primary targets. On the other hand, they also correctly reasoned that the Black Flock had no idea which songbirds were Council members, and were probably killing every bird in the area to make sure that the Council was destroyed.

  There were many reports that jays in particular were targeted by the blackbirds. That made grim sense to Blue. Since the jays would provide the strongest and most organized resistance, it was only natural that the Black Flock would specifically target them first. With destruction of the Council and defeat of the jays, Song Wood would be conquered, and organized resistance from songbirds anywhere in this part of the World would become much less likely. News of the disaster would travel throughout the World, striking terror in the hearts of all songbirds.

  The fate of Strike True and what remained of his flock was unknown. Several songbirds reported seeing lone jay scouts since the attack, so Blue reasoned that finding other jays was simply a matter of time. However, although Blue originally had assumed that he would find Strike True and the Council before his rendezvous with the falcons, hope of finding them was fast waning. He and Brownie were already working their way back towards Red Claw's den for their planned rendezvous, without having found a single surviving jay or Council member. Encountering blackbirds was much more likely. Blue had already twice crossed the paths of lone grackles and managed to kill them swiftly, before they could raise an alarm.

  As Blue and Brownie landed inside the next thicket, a commotion arose deep in the woods behind them. Several grackles and crows could be heard, raising a ruckus. Among the strident blackbird squawking, Blue clearly heard the rallying cries of a jay, fighting for its life.

  “Stay here in this thicket Brownie, and rest,” he told the creeper. “I’ll come back for you soon.”

  “Brownie stay here,” agreed the creeper. The little bird seemed not at all displeased with the prospect of resting, foraging for food, and preening.

  Blue flew swift and low towards the increasingly loud sounds of escalating battle. The fighting was moving towards him, and Blue closed upon the participants quickly. Abruptly in the clearing just ahead, he saw a lone jay and a small brown bird fleeing half a dozen noisy blackbirds. The brown bird was a creeper, Blue realized. The jay flew skillfully behind the tiny brown bird, alternately intercepting each of two grackles that tried to attack the creeper, driving them back again and again. Four big crows awkwardly trailed them, calling to them with their noisy cawing.

  “It is the Blue Death, we have found him and the brown bird,” Blue heard the crows squawking. The crows had mistaken these unfortunate fugitives for himself and Brownie. A very stupid error, Blue realized, since the fleeing jay was obviously female.

  “KEEEEEE” cried Blue, once again imitating the red tailed hawk’s harsh cry as he flew into battle. He pecked the eye from a startled grackle as he flew past it and in another moment had scattered the crows before wheeling to follow the jay and creeper. Taking advantage of being one-on-one with the second grackle, the female jay skillfully struck a crippling blow to its wing, sending it spiraling to the ground.

  “Yaw, yaw,” Blue introduced himself as he joined the fleeing pair, using subtle sub frequencies that the crows would not understand to tell her both his name and that he sought Strike True.

  “Follow us,” she sang in reply, as she took up position behind the fleeing creeper again. She was Fly Free of South Meadow Flock, and though three seasons Blue’s junior, she flew with great skill behind the darting little creeper as it negotiated its way through the trees. The crows, without the aid of the more maneuverable grackles, were forced to fly considerably above them, where they noisily called for reinforcements.

  The little creeper flew straight to Brownie’s thicket and landed next to him, where the two creepers exchanged song excitedly. Meanwhile Blue and Fly Free perched in the bush above them and sized each other up.

  Fly Free was well above average in size and feather tone, Blue noticed, as she sang to him. Her very name was intriguing. “Well flown,” she sang. “You two are the ones that the black ones seek, are you not?” Blue liked the clear bright tones of her song and found her strikingly attractive.

  “Yes. It is important that we find the Great Council, if it exists, and its jay member, flock leader Strike True.”

  “Of the Council I know not, but our flock received song of the blackbird attack at Song Wood and gathers with other area jay flocks to counter attack their spreading blight. We heard also that jays have retreated to this very thicket. Several of us set out to investigate this song, traveling individually by different routes to better gather information, but on the way I encountered a fleeing creeper. It is sung that the blackbirds seek out all brown creepers as well as jays, and kill them on sight. This I could not let happen.” She cocked her head towards the creepers, who were still merrily chattering away together with subdued song.

  “You did well,” said Blue. She had much spirit for such a young jay, he reflected. Her spirit well matched her provocative name.

  “I merely did my duty under the Pact. You however, have long been on a strange quest. Is it true also that you are a song master?" Softly she sang a brief complex song that indicated that she too was a far more talented songster than most jays. Deep within her song she also indicated that she had no pair partner.

  Blue softly answered a brief response her that expanded upon the themes of her song. He was astonished. He hadn't ever encountered another j
ay that was so well versed in song! Perhaps that is why his response to her included indications that he too had no pair partner, but was very interested in gaining one.

  Fly Free switched back to plain song. "It is sung also that death flies with you in the form of the Black Flock. These are all strange things, Blue Dawn Jay. Can you sing of them further?”

  “Sing of them to me also,” sang a familiar voice. Blue knew who it was before he turned to see him standing tall and proud, older but nearly a mirror image of himself. Strike True had arrived on silent wing, as often was his way, and perched only a few wing lengths from his son.

  “Father!” sang Blue, squawking in delight. He hopped up to perch beside the flock leader, pecking him playfully on the head and getting pecked still more soundly in return.

  “We must all soon sing of what is happening, but first we need flee from this thicket,” ordered Strike True. “The crows above will soon bring others, and we are not yet ready to openly oppose them, as we have painfully learned. For now we will quietly flee this place before they are too many. Follow me.”

  Strike True dropped to the ground and hopped deeper into the thicket, followed by Blue, Fly Free, and the creepers. As they went, Blue noticed that Strike True favored his left leg, and that there were signs of dried blood in his feathers that had been only partly preened away. Blue hadn’t even thought of it until that moment, but he realized that he was of similar appearance himself, including a limp.

  Shortly they arrived at a gathering of more than three dozen birds in the center of the thicket. Nearly half were jays, Blue noted happily, while the others were a great mixture of mature songbirds. Like Strike True, they all looked like they had been through a terrible battle. They all turned to gaze at the new arrivals.

  Blue sized up the group of songbirds. There were several types of woodpeckers and a wood thrush, brown thresher, bluebird, nuthatch, swallow, titmouse, chickadee, and goldfinch. There was even a pair of colorfully exotic parrots that hailed from distant jungles of the far-side of the World. It was the Great Council of Songbirds, or at least much of it! Against enormous odds, Strike True and his flock had managed to save the Council! Blue was so overjoyed that he nearly burst into spontaneous song.

  “Before we again flee, what news of Song Flame?” asked Strike True.

  “He sings and flies free in endless skies,” chirped Blue sadly.

  A discordant murmur swept the gathering.

  “Though mortally wounded and dying, he bravely died on the wing while singing his last breath, to save the lives of this brown creeper and myself.”

  “That part at least is well, Blue Dawn,” said Strike True. “Now we flee this place.”

  “I have not time to explain,” said Blue, “but if possible we should flee north-east, at least for tonight.”

  “It will be done,” agreed Strike True, without even asking for an explanation.

  “Hop and I would stay to create a diversion,” said one of the jays. Blue recognized Smooth Wing and Hop, two of his father’s best fighting jays.

  “It is well,” agreed Strike True. “They will be expecting to find at least two jays, so let them find you two here, but make sure that you then escape them. We have lost too many fine jays already.”

  “We will show ourselves and lead them away as you flee, before evading them,” said Hop, “but not before we send more of them to endless skies.”

  Smooth Wing and Hop flew up and south, drawing away and then attacking the crows that were calling out the alarm. It seemed to work; Blue could hear the other approaching blackbirds divert towards the fracas, which moved further away through the forest, following the fighting, fleeing jays.

  Led by Strike True, the others left the thicket on foot at first, and then on the wing, low and slow. As they went, Blue could not help thinking again of what a wonderful name Fly Free was, or keep from looking at her and noting what a handsome female she was. He noticed that she often looked his way also, and he found himself wishing that he was better preened.

  When they were perhaps half way to Red Claw’s den, Strike True halted the group and the Council held an impromptu meeting, with Blue as key witness.

  Before the astonished group Blue told his story quickly but thoroughly. It was by far the strangest story sung since the founding of the Council. The Old Ones returned? Blackbirds destroying the Balance? The Talon Council needed songbird help to fight a war against the Black Flock?

  Predictably, the Council’s reaction was confusion and uncertainty. “I do not understand any of this,” sang the goldfinch. “Personally, I joined the Council to promote free song exchange. None other in my area of the forest was interested in joining the Council, so I was easily approved. Now we have been attacked and are fugitives, and that itself is far too strange for me to comprehend. Being allies with raptors and the Old Ones returning, those concepts are too strange to even imagine.”

  Many other Council members nodded in agreement.

  “You sing of going to war,” said a woodpecker. “Now war is something that we understand somewhat better, through the old songs, and now through our experience with the blackbirds. Even after many hundreds of generations, the chaos before the time of Law and the Great Balance is still remembered. We all learned as chicks that war was the worst part of that time of chaos, and that war should be avoided at all costs. So I for one sing that war is not needed now. This madness of the blackbirds will soon pass. They have basic needs like the rest of us, needs that will drive them naturally towards the wisdom of the Balance. In the fall at the latest, most of them will leave here and flock to the south and east for the winter like many of the rest of us, and the Balance will again shift into place. We need only quietly wait.”

  A few of the other birds nodded in agreement.

  "As for Old Ones," continued the woodpecker, "you have not even seen them yourself. We had already heard confused song of a strange new crawler in the Far South Forest, but that is very far away. Song can change over great distances. What the second bird sings to the third is often not what was sung by the first.” Most of the Council birds nodded their agreement. Embellishment of stories was a valued art form among many birds.

  “It is true that I have not myself seen the Old Ones,” admitted Blue, “but I have talked to several birds that have, including the Great Council member Song Flame and the leader of the Talon Council. The raptors think that the strange crawlers are indeed the Old Ones. Song Flame saw them and told me they are the Old Ones. And this brown creeper has lived and sang with these Old Ones, who he calls humans. He is the key witness here, not I.” With that, Blue pushed the nervous little creeper forward to testify.

  “Well? Have you seen them, creeper?” asked Strike True.

  “Brownie see humans, not know what is ‘Old One’ that you sing of,” replied the creeper.

  “Do these humans war with songbirds?” asked a woodpecker.

  “No. Most humans ignore birds. Some humans help songbirds. Humans war with the forest, blackbirds war with songbirds.”

  “We have this day seen blackbirds war with songbirds, but how do humans war with the forest?” asked the woodpecker, who leaned forward with new interest. “Do they eat the trees in the manner of many crawlers?”

  “No. Not eat of trees, except some fruit. They kill many trees; more than any can eat. They break dead trees into many pieces and take them far, far away. They build great ground nests with dead tree pieces. Other tree pieces sit to make great mountains, waiting to be carried away to the human world, far away. Most of the Far South Forest is gone. Maybe there will be no South Forest soon.”

  Birds gasped and shook. “Gone?” asked the woodpecker. “The great Far South Forest? How can that be?”

  “Humans take. They cut down and kill nearly all trees. Most of that great forest is gone. The land there is giant meadows now, growing seed food for humans and blackbirds.”

  “I do not believe that such a thing is possible,” said the woodpecker. “I
n my youth I quested to the Far South Forests, by freedom of flight. The South Wood is even denser than the North. Nothing could possibly destroy it. This creeper sings total nonsense.”

  “Perhaps,” sang the wood thrush. “Yet it is certain that something is greatly amiss in the Far South Forest. For three seasons we have heard song of it, none of it making sense to us. Yet membership from the Far South Forest on this council has dwindled in the last three seasons. Note that now we have no members among us at all from the Far South Forest.”

  The birds looked around at each other. “That is true,” sang the nuthatch. “None of this Council is from the Far South Forest. I cannot recall that such a thing has ever happened before. I also recall hearing strange stories from South Forest birds during migration, but like the ones you sing to us now, the stories were far too strange to understand or believe. Song Flame quested to discover the truth behind the stories.”

  The thrush continued in his rich singing voice. “We have turned away from such things as from a discordant note, and we have tried to sing the problem away. But it has not gone away.”

  “The discord has flown now to our own nesting places, birds of Council,” sang Strike True. “It has the form of blackbirds and the testimony of Blue Dawn and this creeper. The Black Flock breaks Law and the Balance. We are forced to accept at least that much, as we have experienced it ourselves.”

  “But what is there to do about it?” asked the little bluebird. “Flocking to fight other birds would also break the Law. Thus to flock and fight a war against the blackbirds would itself go against the Balance. Can evil ever be defeated by more evil?”

  A philosophical discussion followed, which grew in volume and irrelevance as it grew more heated. Blue Dawn feared that the patrolling blackbirds would hear. “Quiet,” he squawked softly, breaking radically with Council protocol. “The blackbirds do not debate this; they attack and kill us. We songbirds must defend ourselves. The right of self-protection is the First Law.”

  “Well sung, young jay,” sang the thresher. “And by the Pact jays provide protection to songbirds. I sing that the jays should flock from all the woods to better guard against the blackbirds. Not a war yet, but a great battle to drive away those that have attacked us. Do we all agree?”

  All agreed.

  Blue was only slightly encouraged, as he quickly realized that the Council had merely agreed to something that the jays were already doing themselves anyway. “That would begin to address the problem but it is not enough,” sang Blue diplomatically. “In the Black Flock there are many young birds, many of them still brown colored juveniles. I suspect that the blackbirds have been over-breeding for at least three seasons to increase their numbers, and that their flocks far outnumber anything we jays could fight and defeat. More than just the jays must go to fight them. As the Talon Council says, all songbirds are needed for war. And we will have to coordinate our efforts with the raptors.”

  The group of birds visibly shivered and several squawked in fear. All songbirds fight a war? Fighting was the job of jays. Coordinate with raptors? Raptors were death on the wing. What Blue proposed was insane.

  “Raptors saved my life,” added Blue.

  “So you have sung, young jay,” chirped the goldfinch. “Strange and wonderful, an exciting song for the ages, but what does it mean?”

  “It means that as all birds once flocked together to defeat the Old Ones and to form the Law and Council, all songbirds, including jays, must now for a time flock with raptors to restore the Balance,” explained Blue.

  The council members, clearly upset by Blue’s radical suggestions, shivered and squawked. It was altogether too much to contemplate.

  “With destruction of the Balance, the raptors also fear that the Scourge will return,” added Blue.

  The Council birds were stunned into silence at mere mention of the Scourge, and most bobbed their heads nervously. To even bring up the subject of the Scourge was far too disturbing. It was much too disturbing to sing about openly.

  “This Council will decide what must be done, young jay,” chirped the little nuthatch finally. “We have heard your testimony, now you should leave us so we can decide what to do.”

  Many Council members squawked in assent, and Blue and the creeper were prompted by the jay guard to move to another part of the thicket.

  There Blue fed and preened as he waited anxiously for the Council to conclude. He could hear much chirping and squawking, though the members were too distant to be understood. It was nearly dusk and he would soon need to fly to Red Claw’s den, whether or not the Council had made any decisions.

  The jays except for Strike True were standing guard, including Fly Free. “Will you return to your flock?” Blue asked her.

  “Yes, when I have learned what the Council has determined. Will you stay now with yours?”

  “Not yet. I have one more obligation of my quest to fulfill, and I must leave soon to do it.”

  “Perhaps more than one obligation,” sang Strike True, as he also joined them. “Though terrified and confused, the Council has decided several things, Blue Dawn. First, the jays will flock together and be ready to fight, but not the other songbirds. Not yet, anyway, though they will all be put on high alert and began to gather. Second, you and I will fly to Red Claw’s den tonight to hold discussions with the raptors.”

  Blue felt many things. He felt relief that something was being done, pride that he has part of it, and happiness that he and his father would be doing something together. But it was not yet enough.

  “I will then have the job of gathering and leading the jays and preparing for war, should war prove necessary," continued Strike True. "The jays shall gather here, than we will move on the heart of Song Wood, driving the Black Flock from the Council Tree, so that all songbirds may see that their Council endures. We have approval to do that much, at least. Fly Free, I ask that you go now, and spread word to your flock of this, and that they spread it to other jay flocks, far and wide. Jays in the thousands are needed.”

  “I will do so,” pledged Fly Free. Her eyes lingered for a moment on Blue before she hopped away, the flock leader noted.

  Strike True led his son a few hops away from the others so they could sing alone. “She fancies you, Blue,” he sang, “and you her.”

  “We have only just met, Father.”

  “What has that to do with it? That has always been your problem, at least until now; too much thought and song and not enough jay flocking.”

  “So you have frequently told me. I admit to what you say but there is no time for such issues now. But at least now we will fight side by side, as you have always wanted,” sang Blue.

  “No my son, though I would be proud to do so. You have done well, but Council has now given you a more difficult and dangerous job, a quest unlike any other in memory or song. Before committing all songbirds to war, the Council wants to know more, and they want to sing long before they commit to shedding songbird blood by beak and claw.”

  “Am I then to further scout the situation?” asked Blue.

  “That and more, after we visit your raptor friends. You are to witness for yourself what has been done to the Far South Forest, and you are to bring to the Council yet another witness for testimony, in addition to yourself.”

  “Who?”

  “An Old One. The Council wants to sing directly with an Old One.”

  Blue was struck songless. He was to bring an Old One to Council?

  Strike True led Blue and Brownie to Red Claw’s den. Blue was not surprised that Strike True knew its location. After all, it was the business of local jays to know such things. He was surprised however, when the Flock leader exchanged familiar greetings with the huge owl. He had thought that Song Flame and himself were the only songbirds that had ever dared such intimacy with the great night raptor. There were clearly things that he didn’t know about his own sire.

  In Red Claw’s den the meeting between the Council as represented by Strike
True and the raptors as represented chiefly by Red Claw went swiftly and smoothly but accomplished little of additional substance, for the Council had already deferred the biggest pending decisions until Blue’s return from his newly assigned quest.

  Yes, the Council agreed that there was a crisis and that cooperation with raptors may be necessary, but no, it was uncertain as to exactly what should be done. The only exact actions agreed to by the Council were that Blue and Brownie would flee south to confirm the situation and obtain for the Council an Old One as witness, while Strike True would gather jay forces and liberate and protect a re-assembled Great Council.

  The raptors agreed that Swift Wing and mate would carry information about what was happening to the Talon Council. It was also agreed that on their way to see Great Beak the powerful falcons would carry Blue and Brownie south to the edge of the area that the Old Ones occupied, and then, after visiting Great Beak, would return to the drop-off point to wait for the questing songbirds and the Old One that would visit the Great Council.

  Having the swift falcons transport the songbirds most of the way south and then north again would be the only way that Blue could accomplish his quest quickly enough, for he must finish it within a week. That would leave only the following week for the songbirds to possibly prepare for war, as the Black Flock apparently planned to attack in less than two weeks.

  The plan had far too many holes to suit Blue. “How do I find an Old One? How do I bring an Old One to the Council? What if the Old Ones simply want to kill us? After the falcons deposit me far south, how do I evade the Black Flock, which dominates the areas of the Old Ones?” Unfortunately, there were no answers, and it was time to rest.

  Blue, Strike True, and Brownie spent the night in Red Claw’s den with the falcons, while Red Claw again went out to hunt blackbirds. Sound sleep was not possible. Battle sounds could be heard throughout the forest as owls again waged war on the Black Flock. The owls were killing many, but the night raptors were far too few to drive the Black Flock from Song Wood, Blue knew.

  At dawn, Blue woke to find that Red Claw had already returned and was preening, along with her guests. Strike True was preparing to return to the Council. This morning the jay leader looked less haggard but still weary; the task ahead of him of driving the Black Flock from Song Wood was no less a daunting one than Blue’s quest, and Blue realized that neither one of them might survive the next few days and weeks.

  “There is something else I must tell you, father,” sang Blue. “There are two jays, Nod and Bob by name, who are flying to Song Wood to seek the Council. They have declared themselves to be of my flock by Freedom of Flight. Tell them that I give them leave to join your flock until I return. If I do not return, tell them that they may rejoin Scar’s flock.”

  “You will return, Blue,” stated Strike True. He cocked his head oddly. “The jay flock leader you sang of earlier, who helped in your quest, his name is Scar? Does he bear a scar above his right eye?”

  “Yes. He said that he knew you long ago. He sends you his greetings, and told me to tell you that this business is important and that he is proud that you are a member of the Great Council.”

  Strike True shook his head as though stunned. “He sang that? Was he well, this bird Scar?”

  “Yes, well in spirit and in good health. A strong, capable flock leader.”

  Strike True nodded his head again thoughtfully. “He is well and leads a flock. That is good.”

  “You remember him then? He sang that you might.”

  “As well I should. Remember him? We were hatchlings together, he and I. He is my sibling, and your uncle.”

  “Scar is my uncle? But he lives so far from Song Wood!”

  “My fault, as much as his. We were very close when fledglings, the best of friends, but as we grew we became bitter rivals in many things, as your mother could tell you, if she were still alive. One flock could not hold all of our foolish pride, and we parted company angrily, long ago, he flying south and me north, with your mother. The scar he bears is from my own beak, much to my regret. It is good now to hear of him, very good, and I am very glad he is well. Sing him that, if you see him again.”

  “Enough song,” interrupted Red Claw. “I have killed most of the blackbirds around my den. You must all leave now before they regroup. It is time to do more than sing, songbirds.”

  ****