Darkwing (20 page)

“No,” said Icaron, “because he has broken the law first. He’s a liability to all the beasts. Patriofelis’s solution isn’t just, and it punishes my colony by robbing us of our home.”

“I agree,” said Montian, “that your colony suffers unfairly, but Patriofelis felt the solution was best for the common good, all things considered.”

Dusk could see the fur on his father’s neck bristle; his own was bristling. He hated being dictated to by these creatures.

“This is Patriofelis’s decision,” said Montian. “I am only conveying the news of it.”

“Thank you, Montian,” said Gyrokus. “We understand. Convey our best regards and thanks to your leader.”

The felid nodded at Gyrokus and Icaron, then sprang away down the tree. Dusk exhaled, his heart still pounding in anger.

“That was no way for allies to behave,” Icaron told Gyrokus.

The battle-scarred chiropter merely grunted. “You must remember that the felids are our most powerful allies. We need their friendship. It’s best we don’t anger them.”

Dusk narrowed his eyes at Gyrokus. This gruff chiropter leader hadn’t said anything to support Dad in front of Montian. He didn’t even seem that upset by the news. It wasn’t fair that Carnassial was allowed to take over their island, their tree. He loved that tree, every knobbly surface of it.

“They should send their soldiers in and kill them,” Sylph whispered beside him, and Dusk couldn’t help agreeing with her, no matter how brutal it sounded.

“It seems our home is permanently lost to us, then,” said Icaron.

“You will find a new one,” Gyrokus said. “Here, if you wish.” Dusk blinked.

“My elders and I have spoken on this at some length,” Gyrokus continued. “You’ve suffered a great deal and you’re in need of a home. You’d be very welcome to join my colony. Very welcome indeed.”

“This is an extremely generous offer,” Sol said. Dusk caught Sylph looking over at him, smiling.

“I thank you, Gyrokus,” Icaron said. “I must of course discuss this with my elders.”

“We’re honoured by your invitation,” Nova told Gyrokus warmly.

“As am I,” said Barat.

“My family as well would welcome this place as our home,” said Sol.

Dusk was surprised at the speed of the elders’ decision. He knew he should’ve felt more grateful, but he didn’t. It was one thing to imagine staying here a little while—but forever? A place where he could never hope to be himself, to fly? He couldn’t do it. He
needed
to fly.

“The more numerous we are,” said Gyrokus, “the stronger we’ll be! If war ever comes we will be all the mightier. Join us and prosper with us.” He looked at Icaron. “You would, of course, be an honoured elder.”

But not leader, Dusk realized with a start. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. Joining another colony didn’t just mean a new home, it meant a new leader. He felt sick. He watched Dad, trying to guess what he was thinking. “The decision is yours, my friend,” Gyrokus told Icaron. Dusk waited, sensing that his entire colony, scattered about in the branches, was also holding its breath, hoping.

“The safety of my colony is my gravest concern,” Icaron said, “and I know they would find an excellent home here. Give me
some time to consider your kind offer, Gyrokus.”

Dusk felt relief, but heard Sylph’s sigh of frustration, a sigh that seemed to whisper faintly through the branches.

“Of course,” said Gyrokus. “Take all the time you need. It is a big decision you must make—a daunting one, I’m sure, for a colony that has led such a secluded life.”

“The island was our home for almost twenty years,” Sol said.

“Twenty years!” said Gyrokus in amazement. “I had not realized it was so long.”

Dusk noticed a new attentiveness in the grizzled leader’s eyes.

“Tell me,” he asked, “before you came to the island, where was your original colony?”

“Not so far from here,” Icaron replied. “To the south. Our leader was Skagway.”

“I remember him. He would have died not long after you left. He was killed hunting saurian eggs.”

“He was a brave hunter,” said Icaron.

Gyrokus looked steadily at Icaron for a moment before asking, “Why did you leave?”

Dusk swallowed. Would his father lie, and say it was to find new hunting grounds? What truthful thing could he say that wouldn’t reveal they’d been driven out? He looked at Nova and saw her ears flick anxiously.

Icaron said evenly, “I left with three other families because we chose not to hunt saurian eggs.”

Dusk could hear the surprised murmurings of Gyrokus’s chiropters as this news seeped through the trees.

Gyrokus opened his mouth as if tasting the air, then exhaled slowly. “Icaron. Yes. I wondered why your name was familiar. You were all expelled as traitors.”

“Conscientious objectors,” Icaron said.

“A name changes nothing!” said Gyrokus sternly, and Dusk flinched. Would his father rear back and flare his sails, as he’d done when Nova contradicted him? No. Everything was different now. His father wasn’t leader here.

“A name changes nothing, you’re right,” said Icaron. “But we weren’t traitors. We served the Pact well, until we felt we could serve no longer. We had no wish to desert our colony, but, as you say, we were expelled for our beliefs.”

“Because they harmed all of us,” said Gyrokus.

“Many of us have regretted our choice,” Nova blurted out. “Icaron doesn’t speak for all of us.”

“A leader speaks for
all
his colony,” Gyrokus barked at Nova. “Let me hear no more from you!”

Dusk was amazed at Gyrokus’s ferocity—not even his father would have been so easily angered.

“You shirked your responsibilities to all beasts,” Gyrokus said, turning back to Icaron. “And to your own kind especially. And now you return to a safer world that you did nothing to achieve.”

“The world does not seem so safe,” Icaron replied. “Former allies just murdered almost forty members of my colony.”

“Perhaps if you hadn’t hidden yourselves away on the island, isolated and forgotten, you would not have been so vulnerable! They preyed on you because they thought no one would ever notice!”

“Is he saying we deserved to be slaughtered?” Dusk whispered angrily to Sylph. “Sounds like it,” she muttered.

“Could we ever welcome you into our colony?” Gyrokus asked with chilling calm. “Who’s to say you wouldn’t abandon us again in our next time of need?”

“Our newborns had no part in our decisions to repudiate the
Pact,” Nova insisted. “Don’t punish them for our decisions.”

“Every generation of newborns has no doubt been reared on your deformed principles,” said Gyrokus disdainfully. “You are all tainted.”

“Would you turn us away in
our
time of need?” said Barat. Gyrokus said nothing for a moment.

“I am not so unkind,” he said. “But if I’m to accept you into our colony, I must have you renounce your past, and then I may know that you are trustworthy.”

“You would have me admit my wrongdoings?” said Icaron calmly.

“It’s a simple thing, and only right,” said Gyrokus, and some of his hearty warmth returned. “My friend, you obviously care deeply for your colony, and that’s an excellent quality in a leader. Now you need to care for them by giving them a new home, a safe haven. Join us. But first, tell me and all assembled that you regret your traitorous decision to abandon the Pact, and I will know that I can trust you.”

“Just do it,” breathed Sylph.

Dusk could feel her desperation rising up from her fur like vapour from hot bark. “I will do no such thing,” said Icaron. “I cannot.” Dusk felt a fierce throb of pride.

“Then I cannot help you,” said Gyrokus, his voice hardened with anger. “Be on your way. Wander far. No chiropter colony will accept you, once they know who you are and what you’ve done. I’ll make sure of that. You have made refugees of yourselves.”

“This is unjust!” Nova exclaimed, and at first Dusk thought her outrage was directed at Gyrokus. But she whirled on Icaron. “You’re sentencing all of us to your fate because of your foolish ideals.”

“They’re not foolish ideals,” Sol said angrily. “And they aren’t
Icaron’s alone. I share them. Barat shares them. You once held them dear.”

“We were offered a home!” said Nova.

“We don’t need someone else’s home,” said Icaron. “We’ll find our own.” He turned to Gyrokus. “I thank you for sheltering us. We will be on our way immediately.”

Carnassial watched as Patriofelis advanced across the sand bridge with his forty-five soldiers. He wondered how they would fare in combat. They were strong, but they had never hunted; they had never torn. Would they be willing to attack and kill their own kind? For that matter, he wondered if his own prowl would.

Patriofelis’s cohort reached the island and fanned out across the beach, blocking the bridge. Carnassial’s eyes lingered on Panthera. She wouldn’t meet his gaze. Her presence here made it obvious she felt no loyalty towards him, and yet he was still glad to see her.

“Carnassial,” said Patriofelis. “So this is where you have fled.”

“We didn’t flee anywhere,” said Carnassial. “We’re seeking a new homeland.”

Patriofelis seemed to be taking a tally of his numbers. “Where is Miacis?” he asked.

“Dead.”

Carnassial could hear a collective whine of surprise from among his own prowl. “What happened to her?” Katzen asked.

Carnassial ignored him, his eyes narrowed hatefully at his old leader.

“Dead!” Patriofelis repeated loudly so all could hear. “What a shame to lose one of your strongest. What a perilous life you’ve
chosen. But you were right in one respect, Carnassial. The world is changing and becoming more dangerous. There are rumours that new creatures are approaching from the east, and no one knows if they will be friend or foe. The birds have become more aggressive too, no doubt due to the nests you’ve been savaging. We beasts must stand united. And you, sadly, have become a dangerous threat to any new alliance. We will not allow you to throw our world out of balance.”

“We’ve committed no crime,” said Carnassial. “We feed like any other creature, only our prey is not the same as yours. Who’s to say what is right or wrong? Our craving for meat is as real as yours for grubs or seeds.”

“No more of this talk,” Patriofelis said disdainfully. “I come to offer you one last chance of amnesty.” He addressed the felids ranged behind Carnassial. “Any of you who choose to return to the prowl, come forward now. It’s not too late. All will be forgotten and forgiven, and we can carry on in harmony with the other beasts.”

“He asks you to deny yourselves,” Carnassial told his felids. “He asks you to deny your natural appetites. Would you be content to serve such a leader?”

“My offer is open to you as well, Carnassial.” Carnassial growled dangerously, and saw Patriofelis and his cohort flinch.

“I reject your offer!”

“That is unfortunate,” said the old felid, “since the alternatives are far less pleasant. If you persist in your abominable ways, this island will be your home for the rest of your lives. The beasts will not allow you to roam the world, murdering. You are exiled here, Carnassial. You and all your deviant prowl.”

Mere hours earlier, the prospect of a life on the island would
not have seemed so dire. Now, with the sudden appearance of the predator birds, it was likely a fatal punishment.

“We will not be bound by your laws,” Carnassial spat.

“We’ll be watching the island. Any who set foot on the mainland will be killed.”

“You’d kill your fellow felids, Patriofelis?”

“Yes, to prevent even more killing.”

“I doubt your resolve,” he said mockingly.

“That is unwise,” Patriofelis said. “Now, who among you wishes to renounce your past crimes and rejoin your true prowl. Come forward now.”

Carnassial surveyed the members of his prowl. From the trees behind them he heard a mournful hoot, and an answering call. Katzen glanced at him furtively and then quickly stepped towards Patriofelis. “Well done, Katzen, you’ve chosen wisely. Are there no more?”

To Carnassial’s surprise and shame, five more of his felids crossed over. “How your numbers dwindle,” Patriofelis said.

Carnassial looked at Panthera, who still would not meet his gaze. As the day’s light strengthened, the sea water lapped impatiently at the sand bridge.

“For the rest of you,” Partiofelis said, looking pointedly at Carnassial, “the best I can wish for you is a quick death.”

A vast shadow fell across the old felid, and seconds later, feathered wings enveloped his head and torso. A ghastly scream issued from Patriofelis as he bucked and twisted, trying to throw off the predator. But Carnassial knew those claws and how deep they bit, and the bird held tight.

Panthera bounded to her leader’s side, sank her teeth into the raptor’s tail, and pulled. The bird swivelled its head, facing almost backwards, and lunged with its hooked beak. Panthera fell back as the raptor lifted Patriofelis off the ground and flapped him into the forest.

The air was suddenly filled with wings as more birds came slanting down at them. The felids scattered in terror.

“Come with me!” Carnassial shouted to his prowl. In the ensuing chaos, he saw a chance, and would not let it pass. The sand bridge was within reach, only just now disappearing under a skin of water. He shoved and snarled and snapped his way through Patriofelis’s remaining guard. Suddenly leaderless, the soldiers panicked, some retreating back across the sand bridge, others racing for the cover of the island forest.