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Authors: Maurice Gee

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The Bloodcat came to his feet, and the Priest held out the sword as though offering something on a spoon. The cat’s tongue flicked, red as blood, delicate as a snake’s tongue, and took the drop from the point of the sword. He trembled, all his muscles quivered, and a soft growling sounded in his throat. His head swung slowly round and his eyes fixed on Susan. A change seemed to take place in their colour, a deepening of their yellow, as though a new burning had started in their depths. She felt herself being drunk down into them, and felt that she would never breathe again, think again, without this creature having knowledge of it.

The High Priest laughed. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘if I release his chain there is nowhere you can run, nowhere on O. It is me he hates, oh he hates me deeply, but it is you he will kill. You can never escape him. So whatever plan you have for tomorrow, do not try it. Falling from the cliff is the only way you can ever escape.’ He motioned at the priest. ‘Take him away now’. The man led the Bloodcat out, but the creature stopped at the curtains and sent one last look at Susan. It burned on her skin and seemed to shrivel her.

‘Now, I think we are all tired,’ the Priest said. ‘Let’s get some sleep. You girls have a big day coming up. Ah Soona, how I wish I had been able to hear your flute one last time. Go away now, go away you ungrateful girl, and don’t blame me for what happens tomorrow.’

They left him sitting on his stool, a little man, absurdly dressed, with tears of self-pity in his eyes, and followed their guards through the corridors and gardens back to their room.

They sank down exhausted on the bed.

‘He’s mad,’ Susan whispered.

‘Yes, he’s mad. But he rules O. And tomorrow he will kill us,’ Soona said.

They slept uncomfortably, with the High Priest and the Bloodcat in their dreams. In the morning women came with food and clothes and perfumes and cosmetics. They woke the girls and dressed their hair and put silver caps on their heads and slippers on their feet. They dressed them in robes of jet black silk embroidered with silver thread, and painted their faces white and eyes green and lips bright red. Last of all they fastened tiny silver wings on their shoulders.

Late in the morning, guards came and led them out.

Chapter Ten
As Humble as the Worm …

Starting at first light, travelling until dark, Nick and Dawn reached the mountains in two days. They crossed the pass on the morning of the third day and turned north towards the Yellow Plains. Late in the morning Birdfolk came swooping out of the sky. Nick recognized one of those who had carried them south. Although he did not tell all his mission he made its importance clear, and the Birdfolk fetched nests from a nearby Hall and lifted Nick and Dawn and carried them along the plains to Morninghall.

It was dark when they flew in. The cooking fires in the hollow made a beacon. The Birdfolk landed on the rim and Nick and Dawn wriggled out of their nests and went down through the fires, through a throng of curious Birdfolk, to the entrance of the Hall, where the elders were waiting. A hundred turns before, Wise One had been a female. Now a male had that name. He seemed older to Nick: grey in his feathers, stringy in his neck, beakier, and beadier in his eye – and somehow less wise-lookin.

Nick stopped before him and bowed. ‘I am Nicholas Quinn,’ he said. ‘I visited Morninghall a hundred turns ago with Susan Ferris. Today I bring Dawn the Woodlander. We have a message from Jimmy Jaspers and the Varg.’

A murmur of surprise, displeasure too, sounded in the Council. Wise One said, ‘In the old days the Varg were enemies.’

‘I don’t know about the old days,’ Nick said. ‘It’s now that interests me. I’ve come to help you, and ask for help.’

‘A messenger flew ahead of you,’ Wise One said. ‘We know you claim to have important news for all our kind. Because you are who you are, we will listen. But this must be done in full Council. We have sent for the leaders of the other Halls. They are coming now. In the morning we will listen to your message.’

‘I can’t wait that long,’ Nick said, but Dawn put her hand on his arm.

‘We thank you for your welcome,’ she said. ‘We have travelled far and have little time. But we can wait until the Council meets. Then I pray that you will act quickly.’

‘We will act or not, as the Council decides,’ Wise One said. ‘Nothing more can be said tonight. Now you must eat our food and hear our song. The debt we owe to Susan Ferris and Nicholas Quinn, and to Brand and Breeze and the Woodlanders, is not forgotten.’

So they sat by the fires, and ate and listened. The songs were about heroic deeds, and Nick remembered how once by another fire in this Hall, he had hoped songs would be made about Susan and him. He heard them now and they were unreal. The present, and his task, troubled him. From time to time Birdfolk flew in from other Halls and he felt he did badly in the formal business of greeting and was glad that Dawn was there to say the right things.

Late in the night they were shown their beds. Nick could not sleep. In three days Soona would be thrown off the cliff. And Susan and Jimmy would face the High Priest, and probably die if he did not get there with an army of Birdfolk. But how was he to persuade the Council? If they were all as difficult as Wise One it could take days.

He felt better in the morning when he woke and found Yellowclaw and Silverwing by his bed. They had flown back from a patrol in the north and had spoken with Dawn already and learned something of the mission.

‘You must be careful,’ Silverwing warned. ‘The Prohibition is a subject painful to Birds. There are some who believe it must not be tested, we must accept. Others will resent outsiders speaking of it. But we will support you.’

‘Wise One didn’t seem very friendly.’

‘He’s a cranky old Bird. But he is wise. If you convince him he will help you.’

The Council was held in the Great Hall underneath the Prohibition carved into the rock. Nick read it as he stood beside Dawn waiting for the visiting Birdfolk to assemble.
Folk of the Yellow Plains, For your great sins of Pride and Cruelty, Know that ye are locked into your Land. Unless ye be as Humble as the Worm, never shall ye fly outside the Mountains
… Yes, he thought, it’s clear enough, but I can see why they don’t understand it.

Wise One and the ten leaders of the other Halls arranged themselves in a semi-circle in front of Nick and Dawn. The Birdfolk of Morninghall gathered behind in a throng. Nick heard the rustle and scrape of feathers and the sound of clawed feet on the stone. Wise One called for silence. He introduced Nick and Dawn and reminded his listeners of the debt all Birdfolk owed Susan.

‘This human boy is Nicholas Quinn. Of that we are certain, even though a hundred turns have passed since he stood in our Hall. He comes to ask a favour – and bestow one. So he claims. We will grant the first, if it lies in our power. The second – it touches on things we prefer not to speak of with outsiders. Yet because he is who he is we shall listen!’ He introduced the leaders – old Birdfolk, male and female, most looking tired from their flight. Nick had no confidence that he would be able to convince them. But he took the floor and in a clear voice told the story of Susan’s return to O. He told of her determination to destroy the Temple, of the waking of Jimmy Jaspers, and the journey to Stonehaven.

‘I don’t know where Susan is now, but she must be close to the Temple. In three more days Soona, Limpy’s sister, will be thrown off Deven’s Leap. Susan will try to stop that. She will face the High Priest and tell him who she is.’

The Birdfolk stirred and rumbled and one of the leaders cried, ‘It will do no good. One girl, whoever she is, cannot bring down the Temple.’

‘There’s also Jimmy and Ben. And Dawn and I are going back too.’

‘It is not enough. The plan will fail.’

‘That’s why I’ve come to you for help.’

‘We would help if we could. I speak for all Birdfolk. The Temple is evil. But there is nothing we can do.’

Nick wet his lips. He looked at these towering feathered creatures. He must make their minds work in ways they had not before. He looked at Dawn for help. But she too seemed overwhelmed by the strangeness of the Birdfolk. Then he saw Silverwing and Yellowclaw in the crowd behind the Council. These at least he knew; and he spoke quietly, to them alone.

‘Susan asks for an army of Birdfolk to fly to Deven’s Leap and help against the Temple.’

The Hall seemed to explode. Birdfolk jumped into the air, beating their wings in fury or disbelief. One old Councillor tottered and had to be held up by his retinue. Another cried, ‘This human boy mocks us. He insults the race of Birdfolk.’

Nick kept his eyes on Silverwing. She looked back at him evenly, trying to understand, and he smiled at her. Then he remembered what she had said about Wise One. He found the Birdman’s eyes fixed on him, but could not tell whether their glitter was malicious or amused.

‘I’ve got some more to say,’ Nick shouted.

Wise One nodded. He raised his wings and cried, ‘Silence!’ in a voice that was huge for a frail old Birdman. At once the Hall was still.

‘This boy is an honoured guest,’ Wise One said. ‘So we will listen. He does not mock us, however it may seem. He may be foolish, and presumptuous. But we are in his debt, and we will listen. Now boy, explain yourself, and you’d better do it well.’

‘Yes,’ Nick said. He looked at Wise One now, not Silverwing. ‘That is the favour I ask, an army of Birdfolk. The other favour – the one I bring, is to tell you how to fly outside your land.’

Again the Hall exploded, and again Wise One cried, ‘Silence!’

‘Our thinkers, our leaders, have studied the Prohibition for hundreds of turns,’ he said to Nick.

‘I know.’

‘And none have found an answer.’

‘Yes, I know ’

‘We have practised humility in every form. There have been Birdfolk who have given their lives to it.’

‘I can’t tell you what the answer is,’ Nick said. ‘It’s Ben the Varg who knows.’

‘A bear!’ cried the old Councillor who had tottered.

‘The Varg have always known. They read the Prohibition differently from you.’

‘A bear!’ His followers held him up. ‘This boy brings a message from a bear! To us, who are Birdfolk! A bear knows the secret! Why, in the old days our fathers hunted them for sport.’

‘They remember it,’ Nick said. ‘And I think you should read the Prohibition. It says you are locked in for two things, and cruelty is one.’ For a moment he thought the old Birdman would attack him, but Wise One spread his wings again, and the Hall quietened down.

‘The Varg have no reason to trust us. Why should they tell us how to be free?’

‘Because the Temple is a greater evil. And because any who learn to fly outside will have conquered pride and cruelty. There will not be many. Some –’ he looked at the old Councillor – ‘will never be free.’

‘Then tell us the bear’s message.’

Nick wet his lips again. This was the hard part. ‘The message is,’ he said, ‘read the Prohibition. Read and
understand
.’

Wise One’s feathers stood up on his head – a sign of anger. ‘You think we do not understand it?’

‘That’s what Ben says. He says you must stop reading as Birdfolk. He says … ’

‘What?’

‘You have the minds of creatures of the sky, not of the ground. You must turn your thoughts inside out. You must bring them down, forget your wings. Then perhaps you will understand.’

‘Our wings are our lives.’

‘I know. I know. But look up there, on the wall. Look what it says. “Unless ye be as Humble as the Worm…” ’

Wise One turned and looked, then swung back. ‘Nick, this is too hard. Tell us, tell us.’

‘I can’t,’ Nick cried. He was almost bursting out with it. ‘If I do, you haven’t worked it out on your own. You’ll be trapped in your land till the end of time. But … ’

Yes?

‘Ben said I could tell you this. You have been thinking of humility. Think instead of the worm.’

‘Riddles. Riddles,’ the old Councillor cried. ‘I’ve had enough of this. I’m going home.’ He stormed out of the Hall with his followers behind him. But Wise One never moved. He kept his eyes on Nick. ‘Is that all?’

‘I can’t say any more.’ And he could not bear the eyes of the Birdfolk on him. He broke through the throng into the open and climbed to the rim of the hollow. Dawn ran after him and stood by his side.

‘You did your best.’

‘They’ll never understand. They’re up themselves too much.’

‘I think they will. But not in time. It’s hard for them. If you can fly you only think of flying.’

‘I know. Let’s find our things and get out of here. Maybe they can take us to the pass. I want to get to the Temple.’

Before they could move two Birdfolk launched themselves from a window in the Hall and glided down to them. They were Silverwing and Yellowclaw.

‘We have been talking,’ Silverwing said.

‘Everyone’s been talking. But nobody’s going to do anything.’

‘Nick, wings are all now. Would you expect a Stoneman to come out in the light?’

‘I suppose not.’

‘Then don’t be too hard on us. All the same, we have talked. We see the difference between Birdfolk and worms.’

‘What you ask is hard. Crawling in the ground,’ Yellowclaw said.

‘I don’t ask. The Prohibition tells you what to do.’

‘Yes.’

‘Will you come?’

‘We’ll try. That’s all we can say. But two of us will not be enough. We will see if any others understand. Wait here. It is a matter for Birdfolk now.’ He drew one claw-tipped hand out of the feathers on his breast – an action that always made Nick jump – and laid it on his shoulder. ‘You have done more for Birdfolk than you know.’

He and Silverwing went down to the mouth of the Hall and talked with Wise One and the Councillors. Nick and Dawn saw an angry movement amongst the Birdfolk, heard shouts of rage. Wise One took a long time calming everyone down. Then there was a discussion, sometimes voices raised, and Birdfolk flapping away, or standing sulkily and coming back.

‘It’s as bad as parliament,’ Nick said.

At the end, Silverwing and Yellowclaw walked apart and waited on the rim. And Birdfolk began to join them – first one, then groups of four and five, until there were forty. They were male and female both, and mostly young, but two or three were giant warriors like Yellowclaw.

BOOK: Priests of Ferris
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