Close
below us, the
dark and sleeping earth. Above us,
the great river of
stars. Before us,
the wind. We hugged close to Rook to keep from
being blown off. And Rook hugged close to the earth as they dared,
through one valley and another. We were lucky to have the mountains.
Out on the plains, there wouldn’t be any terrain features to fly
below. We might wind up on someone’s radar and make them think
there was an air raid.
Then
again, a radar reading of a huge aircraft flying that close to the
earth might confuse someone enough that they wouldn’t think we were
some kind of sneak attack from the Canadians.
Then
again, an airplane trying to do the sneakiest attack would be doing
exactly what we were doing.
All
we could do right now was use the GPS to avoid airports and military
bases and nuclear power plants, and hope that it would be enough.
Once we got to the plains we would have to figure out something
else.
Damn
these Olympians. Damn our justified paranoia. I wanted to be soaring
above the clouds, not crawling like a chump. I didn’t want to be
flying with no margin of error on the back of a bird who had never
even flown this far. The ability to snag mule deer in passing barely
made up for that risk.
“It
is odd,” said Ruth behind me. “The wind whistles over my face,
yet for all that we fly through the night, I hardly feel cold.”
“It
seems your condition is progressing faster than you had hoped.”
“Despite
my efforts to avoid speaking Bird! Well, I suppose that’s just the
way. Next thing I know, I’ll be a falcon like you. And then I’ll
be wanting to share your supply of dried crickets.”
“Oh
yeah? You’re so sweet, you’ll probably turn into a Lovebird.”
“Ha,”
said Ruth. “You’re the sweet one, you should have been a Lovebird.”
“What
is a love bird?”
said
Rook.
“The
lovey-doviest of birds,”
said
Ruth. “Two
of them mate for life and cannot bear to be parted, lest they
perish.”
“Then
you two are both lovebirds.”
I
chuckled. “Rook’s
got us there. Whatever else we are, we’re lovebirds. Although that
part about perishing –”
“Highly
likely if I am separated from you,” said Ruth. “I even went along
with having us fly at night, instead of by day when it would have
been fun. Remind me why we’re doing this?”
“If
we’re visible by day, Zeus can find us more easily.”
“I’m
surprised he’s that easy to evade,” said Ruth. “And you already pissed him off, eh? Nice work, pretty bird. I like the cut of your
jib. You want to get a coffee together sometime?”
“Just
like we did after meeting Artemis the first time,”
I
said. “What
I want to do is figure out who and what these Olympians are. I have
half a mind to fly up to Olympus and –”
“And
get stung by a biting fly so that you spiral out of the sky and
crash,” said Ruth. “Funny how that happens to anyone who tries to
fly up there. Why, you’d think the Olympians weren’t interested
in having equals. So let’s avoid attracting further attention from
them right now.”
On
we flew, trusting Rook’s navigation as much as the GPS, though none
of us had ever seen much, if anything of what lay between us and the
great lake.
…
Below
our feet, the cool forest floor, dappled brown and golden in the
sunny day. Above us, the canopy of a cottonwood grove. We had landed
in a National Forest, something big enough that hikers probably
wouldn’t come across us. But just to be absolutely safe, Rook was
doing their best to look like a large boulder, and Ruth and I were
tucked beneath a wing, asleep on a bed of pine branches, in each
other’s arms.
Cozy
as it was, Ruth kept waking up, which woke me up.
After
about the fifth time of this, and I had gotten all my harrumphs out,
Ruth said, “I’m really sorry. I’ve never been able to sleep by
daylight before.”
“Neither
have I. But I am a bird now, so when darkness covers my face, I
sleep.”
“It’s
that simple?”
“It’s
that easy.”
“Are
all birds so easy to fool?”
“Are
humans very much different? They wear sleep masks, or they cover
their eyes with their hats, or they put a scarf over their eyes.
Darkness makes sleep easy for creatures. But yes, for birds it is
more swift and straightforward than humans. We are indeed
bird-brains.”
“Then
I shall become one too,” said Ruth. “Oh dear. What have I done
for love.”
“Are
you noticing any new feathers?”
“Some.
Back, face, arms. I am transforming swifter than I had hoped. I
am…scared.”
I
hugged her closer. “If
it is any consolation, I have not noticed any further transformation
on my part. Nor have I lost any height in the past week. This
condition may have a limited effect after all.”
“Your
genes are not mine. What if I go further?”
“Well,
whatever happens, I am with you to the end.”
“Oh,
my dove. The things you do for love.”
“The
things I do for you. Call it love or folly as you will.”
There
was a crunch of footsteps nearby, and the sound of human voices. We
clung tighter to each other. “We should probably sleep now,”
whispered Ruth.
“In
a minute. I haven’t done a noon prayer yet.”
“I’m
pretty sure your religion doesn’t require you to follow a
commandment if doing so would be stupid.”
“No,
no, this is a golden opportunity. You’ve always wanted to be a
lawyer, I’ve always wanted to be an urban legend. So if I do that
while doing the noon prayer, it’s killing two – uh – this is
doing two things at once. Watch.”
“Rani,
no!”
But
I was already out from under Rook’s wing. And there were two hikers
before me, with their packs on the ground, clearly intending to rest
here a while. Might as well scare them off.
“Holy
crow,” said one of the hikers. “Did that thing just step out of
that huge boulder?”
I
bowed my head. “To
Heaven I pray, bless these travelers and guide them safely on their
journey. May they find no fearsome beast nor bandit, and reach their
home safe and sound. Thank Heaven for the wide, wild world, and thank
Heaven for home.”
I’d
like to think the wind picked up a bit when I finished. But what I
was paying attention to was the hikers, whose mouths were hanging
open.
“What
the hell was that?” said one hiker.
“A
lot of chirping,” said the other hiker.
“But
that thing was praying,” said the first hiker. “This is crazy.
Hang on.” They rummaged in their pocket, and I decided that this
was a good time to vanish. I stepped back beneath Rook’s wing and
let it close over me.
And
then I settled down next to Melody, who was very much wide awake and sitting up, probably glaring at me.
The
two hikers were making more awkward squawks than I had ever done. And
then there was a low, rumbling noise that I could feel in my bones,
and after that, the sound of human screams and human footfalls fading
into the distance.
“Good
bird,”
I
chirped.
“Rook’s
a good bird,” growled Ruth. “You’re a bad bird. You made us
more conspicuous.”
“It’s
called fame, darling. You just stick with me, and we’ll make it out
of this one-horse town.”
Ruth
snorted. But then she snuggled closer to me, and we were asleep soon
enough.
…
The
great river of stars above us, the dark earth below us, the mountains
around us, the wind ahead of us.
And
a storm cloud on the distant horizon, flashing with lightning.
“I’m
slightly worried that your stunt backfired,” said Ruth. “Zeus
might have caught on to our general direction.”
“I
am feeling a little foolish now. But for all we know, that storm is a
coincidence. Zeus claims to rule the sky, but he doesn’t order
around every little wisp of wind and clump of cloud. Chaos is the
name of the game up there.”
“Maybe,”
said Ruth. She looked up. “Hey, I’ve been wondering. If Zeus owns
the sky –”
“I
said he makes the claim. Only God can truly own any part of the
world.”
“Okay,
Professor Pedantic. So Zeus rules the sky.” Ruth pointed up. “What
about the stars? Who rules them?”
“I
imagine that are beyond any of our earthly pretensions and
squabbles.”
“I
never thought of the Olympians as being Earth-bound,” said Ruth.
“But I guess archaic Greek cosmology couldn’t account for the
limitless depths of the heavens, nor that the Earth was just one rock
among many, But – you say that God owns the Earth?”’
“Seems
like that would be his prerogative, yes?”
“Do
we get a say?”
“Eh?”
“Are
we allowed a voice in this? If not, it is not very democratic.”
I
laughed, such as a bird can laugh. “No,
it certainly does not. We should have a vote, then, over all the
earth.”
“And
undercut the Olympians, eh?”
“They
each get one vote.”
“What
about the birds?”
said
Rook. “Do
we get a vote?”
“That
would be appropriate,” said Ruth. “And then we will have to give
a vote to all the bears, and the beavers, and the bunnies, and the
bees, and the butterflies, and every creature whose name starts with
‘b.’ Sorry moose, sorry deer, you’re just not good enough.”
She laughed. “Ah, but having a vote from every living creature in
all the world would be something, wouldn’t it? We’d never finish
counting the votes.”
“Only
God Almighty could finish counting.”
“Wouldn’t
they be a biased counter?”
“Oh!
To say such things of the LORD! You BLASPHEMER! You know that’s
actually a good question. Could God himself be fair and impartial
when counting votes about his own position? We certainly don’t let
presidents do such a thing.”
“No,”
said Ruth. “It’s dictators who do that, and the votes always come
up 90 percent in their favor. A miracle, I tell you. Divine
providence.”
“Talking
of rulership though…”
I
looked out at the mountains. “It
feels very odd to have these spirits from Greece claim dominion over
North America. Surely if they exist, other gangs of spirits do as
well? Where are the Great Spirits of this land to resist the Olympian
domination?”
“Hello,”
said a voice right in front of me.
Ruth
and I squawked in surprise. There was a crow’s head peeking out of
the feathers of Rook’s back. “Hey!” said Ruth. “You can fly,
can’t you? Why are you hijacking us?”
The
crow tilted their head. “You can fly. Why are you hijacking this
big ol’ bird? Oh wait, you’re going for a ride. Well, that’s
how I roll sometimes. You know how it is. Talking of rolling –”
“Hang
on a second,”
I
said. “You’re…speaking
in a human tongue?”
“What,
you want to talk in Crow? Fine, fine.”
“Hang
on,”
said
Ruth, “Is
that what this language is called? It’s named after crows?”
“It’s
named after me,”
said
the crow, and winked.
“Who’s
that back there?”
said
Rook.
“If
I called myself an elder,” said
the crow, “I’d
be sounding real puffed-up and self-important, wouldn’t I? Just
call me Crow. Now, I wanted to talk to you all because it looks like
someone rolled the moon away. Bit rude. Maybe this young thunderbird
here has an idea what that’s about? Didja steal it and hide it
somewhere, youngster?”
“Thunderbird?”
said
Rook.
“I
don’t see any lightning around us,”
said
Ruth. “Do
you? Rook isn’t a thunderbird, he’s – he was born from an
experiment. Genetic engineering and all that.”
“Ah
ha,” said
Crow. “Mad
Science. And here I thought I knew a thunderbird when I saw one! So
it’s not Rook here. Alright. Maybe it was ol’ Coyote, doin’
somethin’ dumb again.”
“No
no,”
I
said, “I’m
pretty sure it was Artemis.”
“Artemis!”
said
Crow. “What’s
one of them fellers doin’ on this side of the world, eh?”
“I’m
going to take a wild guess,”
said
Ruth, “and
say that you already know. So answer Rani’s question. Why have we
not seen any Great Spirits that could resist the intrusion of the
Olympians?”
“Few
enough people worship them anymore,” said
Crow.
“Why
ever not?”
said
Ruth. “What
happened?”
Crow
said nothing, for long enough to let an uncomfortable silence fill
the air.
“Something
tells me it’s a long story,”
I
said. “A
story Crow doesn’t want to tell.”
“Oh
please,”
said
Crow. “I
wish I could say I knew. But let’s leave the griefs of the past
behind for now, eh? And focus on what we can do in the prRanit. The
moon ain’t showin’ her face. Why not?”
I
wracked my brains for ideas, but nothing came to mind. “Damn
if I know.”
“Could
be trying to hide us from Zeus,”
said
Ruth.
“Oh
I see,”
said
Crow. “It’s
all for you. Aren’t you special.”
“Well,”
I
said, “Ruth
and I are quite odd birds, you have to admit that.”
“True,
true.”
Crow
hopped out of Rook’s feathers. “Well,
for now maybe you could ask Artemis for a less troublesome solution?
Some folks like havin’ the moon around. Like the ocean. If there’s
no moon, what will she do? Sit there and do nothin’. I just hope
this whole effect ain’t over all the earth. So I’ll try to see
how far out it goes. Catch you later, friends.”
Crow
spread their wings and lifted off and away.
And
so we beat on.
…
Cold
earth below us, a canopy of dripping leaves above us. Rook’s mighty
wing shielded us from the rain.
And
from sight, as usual. Which was just as well. Ruth’s human face had
given way to full bird features – brown and cream-colored feathers,
a grey beak, and black eyes with cream-colored irises. She had seen
her reflection in a pool of water and become self-conscious. Unlike
me, who did not mind being seen by stray humans, she was thoroughly
embarrassed.
And
so we hid under Rook’s wing, away from prying eyes.
“Before
I fall asleep,” said Ruth, “I want to tell you – we should
probably turn north.”
“What?
Why?”
“Because
flying across the plains is impossible. We’ll run out of state
parks, and from there all we can do is rest in open fields and farms
in the middle of the day, and we’d be spotted immediately. Plus
there’s no guarantee of being able to steal livestock out there,
it’s all corn and wheat. If we follow the mountains north, make our
way through the boreal forest, and come down on Lake Superior from
the north, we can reach the lake more safely than by trying to take a
straight shot across the plains.”
“But
–”
“It’s
a lovely wilderness expedition so far anyway. I’d like to keep it
going.”
“Ruth,
your condition has progressed even further. Professor Windsor and Guy
and Ayaan are busy turning into birds. We can’t waste time.”
“I
am willing to turn fully into a little song sparrow if it means we’re
more certain to reach Doctor Morrow.”
“And
you’re willing to risk the same for people who can’t even contact
you to make the decision?”
“I…wait
a minute, we can contact them.” She rummaged in her backpack and
brought out the satellite phone. “But this is for non-confidential
messaging, right? We can’t ask for their vote on turning north.”
“No,”
I
said, “but
you can ask them if they’re overly concerned about the pace of
their transformations, and how important having a cure is to them
compared to us.”
“That’s…a
good idea. Do you want to do the honors?”
I
took the phone from Ruth and punched out a short text.
Hey
Guy, this is Rani,
coming to you live from the
non-confidential hotline
U
like turning into bird so far?
Does Ayaan?
Feathers
itchy, but it’s a good itchy.
It means I’ll have wings soon.
Can’t wait.
Ayaan is overjoyed to be able to talk to birds.
I
can’t see the appeal, they're kind of
assholes.
I
told them to be less petty.
Old habits die hard I guess. How is
the Prof
Always
cackling and rubbing
their hands together
I
think they’re getting
Ideas
Uh
oh. Brace yourself.
Do you, like, want us to fly
faster?
Slightly worried about reaching Doctor
Morrow with
enough time for Prof to
synthesize a cure
Before they go Full
Bird and can’t
hold a beaker
Professor
isn’t too worried
And me, I don’t mind turning into
An
actual honest-to-god sparrow
And getting eaten by a hawk or
something
Might as well re-roll my character
at this point
anyway
Dude
What
Stop
treating Ayaan like she’s not
important to you
Oh
On
that embarrassing note, I am
signing off
Kay
Will
ask more by mail,
keep eyes out for it
Good luck
Don’t
die
“By
mail,” said Ruth. “You got a stamp on you or something?”
“We’ll
cross that bridge when we come to it. The point is, the home team is
apparently impatient to go Full Bird. So if we have to hurry, it’s
mostly for you and me.”
“I
don’t know,” said Ruth. “I’m slightly worried about Guy going
ghost. And the Professor going nuts. And Ayaan getting in over her head."
“She
got an idea of it when Rook scared the living daylights out of her.
I’m more worried about risking you.”
“I
will accept the risk.”
“Like
you accepted the risk of the bird potion in the first place. Well
what if I can’t? What if I can’t bear to see you suffer?”
“Ah,
well. If you love someone, you must let them go. For birds must fly…”
“Ruth?”
She
was asleep already.
All
I could do was hold her tightly, and pray that we would make it
through this safely.