Crows were well known to come in murders.
Owls had their parliaments, ducks came in paddlings, and puffins, hilariously, dwelled in circuses.
Yet this amount of pigeons defied the usual collective noun of a band or a flock. There were far more than a flight or swarm, and even verminous terms such as pestilence and plague fell short before the whirling dervish of filthy feathers and leprous legs.
This was a storm of pigeons.
They filled every space in a writhing horde, wings beating against exposed flesh, tails blinding eyes, beaks seeking to scratch as they hurtled past. Karen was certain her current form- a pathetic griffin cub- would be but meat on bones to them if she were alone. Yet somehow she was kept safe, held tight in Grant’s thick arm as he ran, bent almost double. Her stout stocky classmate was bleeding already, the scent like iron in the air, and Karen desperately shrieked and peeped, hoping in vain to scare off the pigeons- and their wretched spirit master, the Bad Egg.
As the air cleared, she felt a surge of triumph, but the noise was still audible behind them, and Grant stumbled on blindly through the woods, his heart thundering.
“Dude- wait up!”
The first words not screams managed to rouse him. Grant span, grabbing a treebranch to whip like a club behind him.
“Shit, dude, it’s me,” The youngest of the bunch, the bespectacled teen with the overlong, now tattered coat, wheezed behind him, skin scraped and clinging to a flashlight, “Aw man, Grant?”
“Hey Jambo, what happened?” He struggled to catch his breath, leaning the branch on his shoulder.
“I don’t know- I thought I was following Seb! Why’ve you got that thing?! Why couldn’t you grab him instead of a feral pest!?” the boy wailed, tears flooding behind his glasses, “No, you left him to die and now we’re going to die of rabies in the woods!”
“Well, it stayed on, and I can’t carry Seb- if he was half as dangerous as he thinks he is, he’d be fine!” He rumbled, but stretched a thick hand out, “Jamie. Chill. We’re not going to die here.”
“Yeah- your traitor classmates found out somehow! They must have summoned these demon birds to guard their sick party! It’s probably like a black sabbath or-”
“Are you nuts? That wasn’t anyone but bloody Irene, trying to be the most special person around, as usual.”
“At least she listened! What’ve you done to help find my Mum?” Jamie snapped, then threw a hand out, “Ask your little pet what he knows! Where’s Julia Owens?!”
Karen tilted her head, and cheeped as a heavy bleeding hand covered her, “It doesn’t know anything, it’s a baby!”
“
“SEE! Throw it away!” Jamie gasped, one hand clawing at his brow, blood from a cut soaking it, “Give her back! No, it wasn’t him, he’s innocent!”
“What? I don’t understa-” Grant stumbled too as Karen dug her claws into his soldier costume’s shoulder to stay on, and whirled around, “There’s something else here- give me the torch!”
“Mum?” The boy seemed lost, twisted to look over his shoulder for a long moment, then took off like a scarecrow through the woods, ridiculous trenchcoat flapping around him.
“Jamie!” Her ride roared, then pinched his nose and glanced at her from the corners of his eyes, “You can understand me, right?”
She forced a nod, pathetic wings curled close- she couldn’t see any pigeons, but she could almost smell the Bad Egg, lurking just out of sight, pulling at their minds.
“You with that pigeon thing? This voice?” His hand grabbed her, less gently this time, and she shuddered and shook and squealed- his grip felt strong enough to snap her tiny avian bones.
“
“Shut up and show yourself if you wanna say something, scum! Anyone can talk big when they’re anonymous!” Grant roared, set her on his shoulder and span around, arms wide and defiant. Only cooing cackles seemed to resound, distant yellow eyes twinkling in the night, and after a moment he spat on the forest floor, “That’s what I thought.”
Only a distant flapping and cooing answered his challenge.
Then the storm of pigeons hit them again.
Grant stumbled and grabbed her again, trying to run the way Jamie had fled, even as the pigeons flocked mere inches from his skin. A couple swooped closed, biting at his face or clothes, and Karen hissed and squirmed from his grasp- she would not be this weak! He had protected her, she was more than a victim!
She caught the next pigeon to swoop close, let its rotten flesh land on her beak, and ripped the throat clear before swiping at another with one claw.
“Wow- careful!” A thick arm clubbed one at her back out of her air, and Grant thrashed in front of him as he ran, “Don’t fall off!”
“<...the Wagon.>”
A woman’s voice chimed in the darkness, and Grant twisted at the sound. Too far.
His leg hit a root mid stride, sent him spinning over a slope with a jarring CRACK. Karen squeaked and let go, flapping her wings as Grant tumbled, but she grabbed her instead and rolled, smashing through low bushes and branches before hitting the forest floor with a heavy grunt. Then the teenager uncurled, one flopping onto his back, one foot twisted far to the left, and he grit his teeth as he sat up.
“
“Eff off.” Grant snarled, tugging a knife from his belt, a switchblade that unfurled in his bloody fingers.
“
Grant's eyes fluttered, but he only snorted, “Bullshit. You’re doing this to kill a kitten?”
“
“You’ve been spying on us?!” Grant grimaced, “Wait, this is her?”
“
His eyes, brown and dark, lingered on her, and at that moment Karen felt the enchantment break.
She rolled free as burning pain suddenly coursed through her body, and years of growth and maturity piled onto her tiny frame. Her bones lengthened, shoving skin outwards so quick she feared it would tear. Muscles and sinew swelled around them, her down swept outwards into elegant feathers, and her huge wings flapped as blood swept through them. Within half a minute she was the same size as Grant, and after another she stamped her talons against the forest floor, flared her wings to their full magnificence, and unleashed a roar against the swirling pigeons.
They fled. Grey mongrels fluttered and flitted between the tree branches, far too quickly and easily. She ought to kill a hundred of them- a thousand? The spirit had cut and humiliated her, she needed to slaughter i-
“Thomson?” A fearful grunt came as Grant squirmed back against a tree, holding the switchblade out, his leg twisted. “Yeah- same eyes, you’re Thomson- Karen, right?”
Karen glanced at the weapon and rolled her eyes before giving a nod, trying to listen out. She could hear distant shouts, but the woods were dark to her vision, even Grant was barely a silhouette.
“Well, congrats, you can get lost now. Can’t believe I was so damn stupid, this was all a set up from the start wasn’t it?” Grant snorted and tensed, “Well come on then- if you want to cut me apart, I’ll take your eyes at least!”
With that weapon? Karen snorted and shook her head. He had a twisted leg, there was no contest. And even if he was a jerk, he’d protected her. She had to return the favour.
“No? No what, stay back!” He recoiled as she stepped close, but didn’t expect her speed- a lunge was enough to bite the blade and throw it away with a flick of her head, leaving the teen cowering below her. Then she swept her head under his arm and bent low.
“What? Get- aaargh!” Grant hissed as he tried to squirm away, only for his leg to bang off a root, and he seemed to pause as she repeated the motion, “You’re not attacking? No? You’re… trying to take me somewhere? Damn, this is like Lassie or something, can’t you talk?”
“NO. SOUTH.” She clucked in avian, but managed to lever the teenager onto her back before standing, wincing slightly- he had to weigh near as much as Caleb did! Flight was impossible, but she could walk with him swaying there.
“Right, this is just surreal- do you know where we are?” Thick hands tugged too tight at her wing shoulders, and Karen snorted, before picking up the sound of a scream on the wind and paced that way. Dense needles blocked light from above, forcing her to stumble over root and log, push through bushes and try to balance her passenger all at once.
Yet as they went occasional flashes came- sounds of whizzing explosions like fireworks, and flickering orange light that grew bright as she bounded towards it.
The woods were ablaze. Tongues of fire licked across trees and consumed bushes ravenously. There was no sign of the bonfires, but distant hisses of fireworks sounded again, and the vivid colours left her stunned. Leaves and undergrowth vanished into the flickers of gold and red-two, and Karen staggered- she’d never seen such a blaze, and for an instant she watched for someone within.
There, a swirl of smoke like hair, a couple of sparks, eyes. As she stared into the flames, gasping at the smoke, for an instant she saw an aspect of her own old face within the inferno, dancing merrily within.
Then Grant kicked her ribs and tugged her wings, “No, no way, Thomson, turn! Don’t jump! Heard someone on the left!”
Karen growled at the pain but wheeled aside, even as heat licked her hide and dashed along parallel to it, able to avoid obstacles with the vivid firelight. Tattered Halloween decorations, burnt pumpkins and discarded fireworks littered the way, before another scream drew her to the source.
A thin figure was suspended between the trees. Jamie looked ragged and terrified, his glasses missing, stuck in a vast web woven between the trees. Thick stands of silk trapped him in place, and above his squirming figure loomed a nightmare of chitin and glittering eyes. The spider was enormous, as large as Karen herself, with legs like javelins and mandibles like knives.
“More?!” The boy squealed, thrashing in place, “NO! No, leave me alone! Don’t take me, don’t take me, don’t take me!”
“JAMES! It’s me- she’s good, just don’t look up!” Grant shouted from her back, and yelped as Karen reared. She shrieked defensively as the enormous spider, and felt a pang of relief as it withdrew, limbs curling and mandibles clicking. At least she wasn’t useless, and she gave another defensive shriek, before lashing out and parting the web with long sweeps of her talons.
Jamie fell free and stumbled back, wiping his eyes as he stared up, “You’re with them? That’s the kittens’ mum?”
“Nah- it was the kitten? I dunno, but she don’t like the pigeons or that spider monster.” Grant explained as the arachnid retreated, and heaved Jamie up with one hand, “We’ve got to stick together, can you walk?”
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“Yeah? Wait, how do I know you’re you? What’s the password?!”
“Julia. Dude, there’s a forest fire, Seb must have gotten wild, we need to get out of here! Do you have a torch?”
“Of course- yeah- no, oh this one works!” Jamie discarded a spare flashlight from his voluminous pockets before clicking the new little one on, spinning a charging hand-crank on its side anxiously. Pale light flickered out, sweeping across the woods, tattered webs blowing between trees like phantom string, and then across Karen and Grant, “Right, where do we go? Do you know? Don’t fly off without me!”
“Don’t be daft, if she could fly she’d be gone already,” Grant coughed, and she bumped him with her wings irritably, “Ouch, what the hell! Look, the wind's coming from that direction, so we go that way, otherwise the fire could spread on the wind after us. Upwind, then we navigate from there!”
Karen rolled her eyes and trod west instead- the lake was downhill, it was easy to find, and the cleared ground between wood and lake would protect them. That’s where everyone else, including Ollie would have gone. That’s where firemen would come from! The two boys questioned her like the blind bipeds they were, but didn’t split off again, and Jamie’s torch did make the way easier as they moved. Little by little, the roar and crackle of orange flames was replaced by growing shouts and screams on the wind.
Then they hit asphalt and mud. Grant grunted as she jumped down a bank onto the road, to see headlights and movement a hundred metres along. Humans and mystics shouted and argued there, and cars reversed and quarrelled in the narrow way. Amidst it all, the big six armed Director Exi bellowed into the cacophony, directing people to and fro.
“Jambo- come on, where the hell are you going!?” Grant’s shout shifted her attention to the younger teen, slinking the other direction.
“Home.” He grunted, “What does it look like?”
“You can’t go home- you’re sliced up, it’s like two miles! You need help!”
“There’s monsters that way. What if they make the pigeons appear?” He breathed, quick and shallow, winding the torch faster, “What if they blame us?”
“Then say it was Irene- we didn’t do anything! Hey- hey, Thomson, don’t turn around I’m trying to talk to him!” Grant punched her in the back but Karen ignored it, she needed to see where Ollie was, not waste time with these morons.
“Thomson- wait, the girl from your class? With the eyes?”
“Yeah, I guess? You coming?”
“I’m not leaving you alone with those freaks.” Jamie swallowed, but drew a little nearer, shining the light annoying near her eyes, “We nearly let this thing out at school.”
“Yeah. We fucked up, dude. Just keep your mouth shut- uh, say we came for the party, got lost, got hit by the pigeons. Alright?”
He nodded as a man up ahead spotted them amidst the knot of vehicles, and hurried closer, “Wha- oh we got more? You kids alright? Anyone hurt?”
“Scratches, some weird pigeon thing, and I think my ankle’s busted. There’s a fire, some bonfire or something got out of contro-”
“I know, we know, brigade’s on their way, trying to see if a helicopter can be arranged. What about… ah, C-394… Karen, right?” Moving into the torchlight, she recognized the cop, Danton, from town. “You hurt?”
“Course not. Can you bring your pal this way? That’s good, you’re real strong, keep it up.”
She was, but Karen barely had the presence of mind to accept the rightful praise as she wove to a pickup truck, glancing back and forth desperately. Mark was burned, she spotted Jess huddling by him, she saw Olive with tears rolling from behind her sunglasses, the faun kid wrapped in a tinfoil blanket- but where was her brother?!
Grant was hauled off her back and Jamie clambered into the truck before someone tried to touch her. That hurt, it stung some scratch and was too close, so she darted away, breathing hard and squirming through the crowd of panic and fear. There were bipeds, arguments, raised voices and blood everywhere, big and small, mystic and human, but where was he?!
“Karen, wait-” There was Matt, thin and tall, and not the target of her search, and she reared up at one end of the crowd before bounding around them again. She chirped “boy” in avian, the closest she could manage to his name, over and over under her breath before she reached the far end again, past crying teens and panicked adults, bipeds and mystics and vehicles.
He wasn’t here.
Her brother wasn’t here.
She broke into a run, heart pounding in her ears, meaningless shouts in the background. One jump, her wings spread. Two jumps, she added a flap. Three jumps, she stumbled. Four jumps was too many, too slow and yet she hurtled up above the trees, loosing a desperate keening cry.
The woods near the clearing were ablaze. A writhing incandescent insatiable beast that consumed trees and scampered across branches, choking the air with smoke. She swept towards it still, eyes raking over the landscape, for breaks in the boughs, for that little black haired boy, wrapped up in his stupid mummy costume. Could he have worn something more flammable if he tried?!
A sickening image swam into her mind, a burnt corpse from a detective show, skinny and desiccated, so brittle that it crumbled to charcoal at a touch.
No, no, the griffin screamed and whirled around, spotting the half dozen pigeons shadowing her, orange eyes reflecting the pyre below. There was still the Bad Egg to worry about ! She swooped back with a roar, caught one with her talon, but the others scattered, cooing and cackling, away from the fire. She ought to hunt them down one by one, more delicately, take time to pluck out however many eyes the wretch had, but…
It was distracting her from Ollie.
Another spiteful screech was sent its way before she swerved back, great wings carrying her over the clearing, where only one of the three bonfires had linked up with the main blaze, and she spotted a small figure hiding, screaming as tiny shapes darted nearby.
Karen dove down, buffeted by the rising heat and staggered across the chaotic clearing, over broken music sets and scattered seating, towards him.
No, her.
A young mermaid flailed and writhed pathetically, gasping for breath and swatting at a dozen pigeons. Her scales were white, patterned with crimson, and pale skin peered out under a short dress and wild black hair. She’d definitely seen her at school, she must have tried Logan’s naga Veil and gotten herself stuck, unable to slither.
A complete red herring! Karen roared and swept a wing over the distraction, swatting pigeons aside to get a glance through the woods. But there was no sign of Ollie, just a stupid stranded stranger! She hissed, taking in the chaos, coughing as she searched for a way to take off, to escape, and took a bounding leap
Only for a sharp hang to tug her tail and provoke an undignified squeal as the mermaid grabbed her.
“Please… do..crkf, hurgh,” The false mystic coughed and spluttered, gills fluttering in the confines of her dress, the rest of her words lost in the fit. The griffin snarled and batted her aside with a hind paw, she had kin to find, not random bipeds. Then she sprang forward again, spread her wings early and caught the rising heat, easily sweeping back into the sky.
A gaggle of wailing sirens overwhelmed the distant noises of people as she did, and growing flashing lights heralded the arrival of fire trucks, too broad and bulky for the woods. The bipeds within would fair better though, it was their job to rescue people. Not hers, why should she waste time on them? She’d already saved two morons!
The words of her father rang clear enough in her head that she span around, hissing and ready to face the Bad Egg again. Yet the smoky sky was hers and hers alone. Only years of listening to Ernest Thomson weighed on her heart. That girl was likely as good as dead if she did nothing. But what about Ollie!? He could be in trouble too!
Hadn’t she done her good deeds for the day? Wasn’t she meant to be free, she had wings! Why should she risk her brother trying to help ridiculous strangers?!
IT WASN’T FAIR!
But such was the world.
The griffin dove back down, quick and sharp, and hovered over the clearing. Hot air threatened to carry her off, and so she folded her wings and dropped the last twenty feet, landing on all fours with a grunt. The girl was almost where she’d left her, coiled up near the tree line, still and quiet.
Yet blood still flowed through her skin, faint breath still flowed, and she flinched awake as the griffin lumbered near and bent down.
“Are… krf, hurgh, dead?” She whispered, golden eyes bloodshot and heavy.
“SOUTH!” Karen screeched in her face to wake her up, and impatiently shoved a wing under her, and wriggled the snake-thing onto her back. Even as small as her human half was, the vast tail made her even heavier than Grant and a far more difficult passenger whose end dragged across the ground. But her arms tightened around the feathery neck, and Karen curled her wings close before racing back across the clearing, back in the road’s direction.
The smoke lay thick and heavy around them as she ran, crimson embers like lost stars swirled through its embrace and singed her fur. She angled farther left to avoid it, though farther from the blaze the darkness of night reigned, and branches raked bony fingers through her wings instead. Twice she impacted on sticky fibres strung between the trees, and heard many clicking legs in the darkness, but she was not spider prey.
Her passenger fell off mere yards from the road. Karen felt her grip weaken, then suddenly the weight dropped off and she span around to see the girl’s mouth bared in a rictus scream, exposing long fangs and a forked tongue. Then her tail began to churn and shift, the long pale scales melting as the mass wormed its way back inwards. She writhed and thrashed at the pain as Karen’s stomach churned, and she watched the small side fins spread out into crude feet, then ankles and knees as legs sprouted.
Yet it didn’t seem completely right, even by the grotesque standards of transformation. The pale scales on her arms turned grey green instead of receding, her fangs and tongue remained along with her hoarse scream, and her hair writhed. Then sudden scales and skulls swept from her scalp, forming a dozen writhing dark green snakes, more scales patterned around the girls eyes, and the yellow golden slits turned to-
Karen bounded aside with a shriek. She was a gorgon!? Why had she been a different snake mystic? She was naturally a snake mystic! So useless, she had wasted so much time!
“Hel… lo? Griffin? Krf, urgh,” The young gorgon coughed, eyes screwed shut and hands blindly, feebly fumbling. She earned a warning growl before Karen stalked close again and let the potentially petrifying thing crawl onto her back, small and light, “Tha...kyou...”
“You. South.” Karen cursed in Avian, but gently slipped down onto the road and back to the chaos.
It was even worse now, twin fire engines flashed with gaudy colours, ambulances and cops gathered, people argued and vehicles buzzed up and down the road, ferrying locals back to town. It was enough madness that even a gorgon riding a griffin went rather unnoticed until Olive shoved her way over and grabbed the other mystic.
“Eda, you’re safe- are you okay?!” She gasped, fumbling with spare sunglasses.
“Mmm-mmmm,” The younger sister held on, and yelped as the griffin pulled out from under her and reared anxiously. Bipeds were saying things, she heard Olive add more, but it didn’t matter- she had saved this kind, someone had to have Ollie?
He wasn’t there. Nor Logan, not the dragons or Diana! Why was noone useful here?
She snarled and circled again, round the other side where thick hoses were being unwound by bipeds in heavy protective gear with horrible stripes. One cursed at her appearance and swept a hand aside, wide eyes underneath, “Woah, shoo, shoo, stay out of there!”
The griffin snarled at him and bounded past, lunging between and then onto the sturdy vehicles with an easy jump. The height did no favours, she could see them starting to battle the blaze, but it was too little too late. The fire would spread throughout the forest, and with the hoses the fire department would likely only be able to reach a few hundred metres of woodland, winding between trees hazards as they did, and that was if the Bad Egg didn’t intervene!
No, she needed to keep moving, and so she did, bounding back into the air to sweep over the burning woodland. The smoke was a full curtain now, rising pillars of poison that stung her eyes and stabbed her lungs whenever she drew near, barely daring to even blink. Yet most of the motion she spotted was too small or too large to be her brother, flickering pigeons or marching firefighters. Once she thought she spied a figure in the flames themselves, a dancing silhouette of light, yet it vanished within a second and she dared not dwell on such distractions.
When she did spot an appropriate figure and crash through the branches, it was only yet another lost teenager, a boy who screamed and nearly knocked himself out running into a tree at her appearance. That did at least make him hold steady long enough to notice the downhill direction she was pointing before taking to the air again.
Her wings ached with weariness, her lungs felt scratchy but she kept circling, coming back to the clearing as it was covered in more and more blaze. She almost wanted to dive through the fire, just to dare to see if anyone lingered within, but even that seemed like madness. Didn’t it?
“HEY!” A shrill voice dared to distract her, and she span to see the black little wings of Fei, the red skinned girl almost demonic in the firelight. “Karen!”
“SOUTH!” She snarled back, sweeping her eyes below.
“Karen, come back to the road, there’s a helicopter coming- Logan told me to grab you!” She gasped back, weak frame struggling in this smoke.
“QUERY?!” She shrieked pointlessly, but the girl had no understanding and so she swept back, daring to hope.
The heavy roar of a flying machine rumbled overhead as they neared the road, and she lined herself up before bombing down near Logan’s junction. For some reason her legs gave out as she landed and she rolled painfully across the muddy surface, before struggling back upright, looking around.
“Karen!” The skinny, familiar form of Logan, dressed in a singed suit waved from near an ambulance, “Karen, you alright?”
“BOY, QUERY?!” She screamed back, charging headlong into his gut. He managed to stay standing with the headbutt, and a shaking hand ruffled her feathers.
“Uh, Maddie got out okay, she’s in trouble but not hurt,” Logan didn’t understand avian at all, but seemed to comprehend her wide eyed look, “Oh, right- here- don’t do any sudden moves okay? Diana found them, she’s immune to the fire, but… just don’t panic!”
She shoved past, towards the ambulances, to the paramedics there who flinched at the large mystic suddenly appearing.
Except one biped.
Ollie was on the stairs of a van, wrapped in a silvery blanket like a microwave meal, his toilet roll costume lost and his clothing in shreds. Tear tracks from bloodshot eyes were the only clean sections of his ashen face, his black hair was wild yet she couldn’t see any wounds. He startled at her approach.
Green eyes met her own, then welled with fresh tears and the boy wordlessly leapt free of the blanket and slammed into her. Karen shoved back against him, wrapping talons and paws and wing and neck and tail around the child to find herself shaking, terrified he might vanish or be some trick. Yet, unnaturally quietly, her brother stayed in her embrace, sobbing and gasping but there, while around them whispers hung like smoke.
“...a griffin right?”
“….was bringing people here, it can’t be...”
“Look at the marks, they fit...”
“No, too small.” A man grumbled, almost from right beside her, “This one’s claws are larger.”
He was too close and she glanced up to glare and growl at him, discovering a white bearded older doctor there, heavy wrinkles laden with sweat. Yet he didn’t recoil and only snorted, standing up to back towards the ambulance where a coughing teenager was being loaded into.
Alongside another stretcher where a huge broad teen in fake armour lay. Caleb’s hair was matted red with blood. His knightly costume was split asunder like the cheap cardboard it was, to expose raked flesh, deep gashes all arrayed in sets of three like the claw marks she’d left in the woods. His breathing was a struggle, blood pooled from his lips, and for once there was no colour to his cheeks.
Then the other patient was loaded, the doors clicked shut, and she cast him from her mind, curling protectively around her brother.