A wide open space spread out before them, broken only by small clumps of pine trees and pointed spires of white stone, splotched with lichen, that arched over a broad lake like the ribs of some colossal ancient animal. They must have been what I had seen from the statue. It wasn’t a perfect set, the spires weren’t exactly lined up on each side of the lake and some were missing, but it still made me wonder if Grislander’s body had for some reason, somehow, been moved here away from his Maw.
The ribs weren’t the only odd things. The lake flowed over a sheer cliff into secondary lake below which, in turn, looked to flow into a stream that disappeared under the trees. However, instead of the crashing noise of an uncontrolled waterfall, the water running down the cliff was more like a rivulet running down the side of an overfull bowl. It followed a dozen carved channels that switched and curved down the cliffside and delivered the water to the second lake with only the soft gurgling whisper of moving water.
I had never seen anything like it.
And then there were the birds. And the people.
On the ribs, on the water, nestled in the odd grass that came up to my waist, in the air, the birds towered everywhere. All of them were bright white with silvery feathers mixed in on their wings, like sun glare on snow. Some had black spots speckled along their wings and tails as well. Beady black eyes, hooked black beaks, and webbed black talons contrasted sharply with their snowy feathers. All of the chicks that I could see were a downy gray and taller than me. Every single bird had something small at the base of their beak that reflected the sunlight. The sheer size of them made part of me wish we could slip quietly back under the pines and leave.
But our group had already drawn notice.
Just as the birds were everywhere, so too were the people. They looked like they were tending to the grass and even some empty nests. Others were collecting lichen from the ribs and spear fishing in the lakes. A herd of reindeer were spread along the edge of the lower lake and whenever a bird swooped too close the herders with them would raise short sticks with what sounded like a clump of bone shards on the end and shake them. The birds left the reindeer alone at the clacking sound and the reindeer barely even spooked.
Also near the shore of the lower lake was a grouping of…huts. Not tents, though there were still fur coverings over the doorways and some awnings, but permanent buildings of clay and some stone, and grass growing over top. Small enough for only one or two families to fit inside. The only other time I had seen buildings like that were the sap domes in the Seedling Palace and these people didn’t have the constant temperature and weather protection of that place. The First Flurry was nearly here and I couldn’t see any evidence that they were preparing to go to one of the convergence sites, like Grislander’s Maw. Did they just…stay? In one place? All year round?
The idea was mind boggling. How did they not run out of resources? How did they, and the beasts, survive the full force of the First Flurry and the warming winds? Did they ever have contact with other tribes?
I looked closer at the people around us. They wore thick ponchos with bright bird and braid patterns against the growing chill rather than the usual cloak. Black hair, yellow eyes, and olive or darker skin tones were common. And everyone, even the children, wore some type of jewelry. Only the adults had actual feathers in their hair, but bone nose rings and earrings and finger rings carved into feathers or talons or bird silhouettes were everywhere. Leather cords held pendants or wrapped around wrists or accentuated hairstyles. Bone hair beads were also common though I noticed that none were placed where healer’s beads hung.
Jin’s image rose up in my mind and I no longer had to wonder where she might be from. Between her appearance and jewelry, the connection was blinding obvious, and suddenly I trusted these odd people even less than I had before.
A man with long beaded hair had stopped bending over a nest to look at us. He spoke to a girl by his side. “Miyan, take them to the Tamer.”
She nodded and began to take a step towards us before asking, “The tree or the Nest?”
He considered while looking off in the distance. “The Nest.”
The girl nodded, enthusiastic, and started off away from the cliff as she gestured for us to follow. We did and I noticed that Fern spoke something into the wind.
My attention was immediately stolen by what Miyan said next. “Your other group is already here. I’m not sure if they’ll be by the Nest or out practicing, but they got here about…three days ago.” Her fingers brushed over a bird head bone hair comb holding her hair back over her ear as her voice got soft with admiration. “Dera is amazing. She can turn bone into anything.”
I barely heard what she said after that first sentence.
Prevna was here.
And I wasn’t ready. Wasn’t ready for the inevitable teasing when she found out that Wren and I had shared a tent even though nothing had happened. Wasn’t ready for the fact that I’d probably try to keep what had happened from her only for her to find out anyway, from my lips or the others. Wasn’t ready for the way her observing eyes would likely spot all the new cracks and connections in our group.
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Prevna was here and I hated that part of me was desperate to see her and another part hated the part of me that hated that.
Miyan led us through the tall grass and around nests without seeming to care if they were occupied or not by the huge white birds. I did my best not to show my nerves around the feathered beasts even though I was sure one could swallow me in a single gulp if it wanted to. The others, other than Fern, also seemed ill at ease, though Wren’s unease was also mixed with wonder and interest. Chirp cowered next to her neck and she kept stroking his tiny head.
Still, she couldn’t hold back her interest entirely. She asked Miyan, “What kind of birds are they?”
Miyan grinned at her. “We call them storm birds. There’s wild ones on the coast, but they don’t get nearly as big as ours.”
“Do you mind if I talk to one?”
Miyan shrugged and pointed to a bird ahead of us. “They’re not as easy to tame as that little bird you got there, and they don’t listen to people they don’t know, but you can try. Anore is one of the calmer birds.”
We gave Wren a wide berth as she marched up to the bird. Chirp did his best to hide further into her hair after giving her a chiding chirp. She looked up at the fifteen foot tall bird and smiled. “You’re very beautiful.”
Anore cocked her head at Wren to look at her better before making a croaking call. Several other storm birds in the vicinity turned to look.
Wren’s smile widened. “I can understand all of you. Your nest is very well taken care of too.”
Anore preened and let out a louder whistling call. More storm birds took interest while I swear I heard a pouty little twitter from the direction of Wren’s hair.
Several birds waddled or soared over as Wren continued to flatter the bird. A few others started to talk at her and she laughed. “I can pass along all your requests as long as”—here she had to struggle to pull out a resisting, terrified Chirp—“you all promise not to snack on and keep an eye out for this little guy. Chirp. He’s my best friend and I’d hate to lose him, and you’re all so magnificent that I’m sure that keeping an eye out for him won’t be a problem for you.”
Chirp puffed up a bit as she declared his status.
Miyan asked, eyes wide, “She can actually talk to them?”
Fern nodded. “All birds. It’s her blessing.”
Miyan looked like she was staring at a mythical creature as she kept her eyes trained on Wren. “This year is the best.”
With a bit more flattery and negotiation Wren managed to get the five birds crowded around her to agree to leave Chirp alone and spread the word to the others in the flock. Chirp wasn’t really safe yet, but at least she had made a start.
We continued on as other birds kept catching Wren’s attention and speaking to her. Progress was slow since Miyan refused to leave her new idol behind.
We finally stopped in front of a clay and mud hut that sat squarely in the middle of the nesting grounds. The bottom section of grass growing on it had been woven together so that it looked like a bird’s nest. Prevna was nowhere in sight. Miyan whistled politely outside the door covering and then gestured us inside after an answering whistle.
The hut’s main room was large enough to comfortably hold all of us and then some. Shelves built into the left wall were filled with pouches and jars and other basic tools, a low table surrounded by cushions pressed up against the opposite wall. A small fire lit up the room from a recess in the wall near the table and a hole cut above the recess kept the smoke from filling up the room. Two covered doorways led further into the hut. I assumed one was for a private sleeping chamber but I wasn’t sure what the other was needed for.
Movement caught my eye and one of the door coverings was pushed aside. My breath caught. Just a little.
The woman who stepped into the room looked like she should have been in a palace of ice. Pale blond hair with the slightest wave stopped just short of her shoulders and framed an angular face. A delicate bless mark radiated out from her hairline like a crown painted onto her forehead, pointing towards her eyes and made of interlocking triangles. The faintest pale blue irises peered out through thick lashes and her entire poncho was white instead of just the patterns. But more than that, more than her beauty and clothes, it was the sheer amount of glass dripping off her that created the impression. Chips of glass were woven into her hair, and delicate leather strips hung more glass from her ears. Similar jewelry wrapped around her throat and wrists, and a glass stud pierced her nose while two more pierced her opposite brow. Glass chips were woven into her poncho and nearly all of her fingers had rings.
Some of the glass was dark brown, but most of the chips were cloudy white or pale yellow, golden, and copper. Like the bits of glass I had chipped from the statue’s hair.
My gaze cut to Fern. Had she sent us on that trap of a quest just to get this woman’s favor?
The woman smiled. “It looks like we’ve been found. Your mission was a success then.”
Fern nodded and she sounded just slightly more breathy than normal. “It was. My group also collected more glass for you.”
She gestured for us to hand over the bits of glass Breck and I had gathered. Part of me wanted to keep the glass just to be obstinate, but there wasn’t anything I could do with it and the lady was obviously a whisper woman who didn’t hate me yet. It’d probably be best to stay on her good side. So I handed over my bit of glass with gritted teeth and a strong wish I could throttle Fern, just for a minute, without consequences.
“From all of you? How kind.” The woman’s gentle smile strengthened.
Breck relayed the bad news. “Unless someone’s willing to climb the statue now I don’t think you’ll be getting much more of that.”
The whisper woman raised her eyebrows at Fern.
Fern answered the silent question. “Some unfortunate circumstances caused the tree on the statue to fall. But the corpse gorger might be dead.”
I couldn’t help but feel that her last sentence sounded more like a question than a statement and a plea for the woman’s approval. Fern wasn’t acting like herself and even if I didn’t like her normal uptight, idiotic attitude this was somehow worse.
“Indeed?” A flicker of interest on the woman’s face, her tone of voice, but she didn’t offer Fern a reprieve from whatever strain she was under.
Miyan, thank the storms, chose that moment to break into the conversation. “Where’s the Tamer, Barra?”
Barra rolled her eyes and gestured toward the door behind us. “Where she always is. With the birds.”
Miyan crossed her arms and pressed, “Where?”
Barra let out a breath, closed her eyes, and after a moment’s concentration declared, “Quibble’s nest again. His gut issues have come back.” Then she seemed to realize something and she smiled at us again. I couldn’t quite decide if it was genuine or a mask. “I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Barra, the Rookery’s Tracker. I make sure we can always find our birds and, occasionally, their Tamer.”
I think she thought she had made a good joke.
Fern quickly introduced the group and then Miyan hustled us back out the door so we could go meet the Rookery’s leader. I hoped she wasn’t like the Tracker.