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33 - Bigger And Meaner In Every Way Possible

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Suni

“I’ve got this,” I said, waving away Senesio’s offered hand. I pulled myself atop the palisade and straddled either side with my knees. It’d been a long climb and I’d never been particularly gifted in that area. I’d certainly picked up a few dozen splinters and scraped off more skin than I cared to think about, but I’d made it. Maybe I was just an apprentice naturalist, but I’d made it to the top of the palisade and that had to be worth something, right?

“Down here, and quiet,” Senesio said, waving me onto the raised walkway that lined the interior of the stakewall. I eased down onto it, careful not to make any noise that would attract the terror birds’ attention.

Be calm, cool, confident, I told myself, but I didn’t need to. I was calm, cool, and confident. Old Suni might not have been able to even think about doing this without getting weak in the knees, but Old Suni was gone. New Suni was here and I wasn’t afraid of a few big birds. If anything, I was almost excited; eager. But, no, that would be insane. I pushed away the feeling. That was just the adrenaline playing tricks on me.

“Now, where have they gotten off to?” Senesio whispered as he peered around the outpost.

From the walkway, we had a fine view. The exterior palisade still stood strong, almost as if it’d been intentionally left that way, while everything within it, excluding the skyship, had been burned to the ground. What was left was mostly piles of wood where the few, small buildings of the outpost had collapsed in on themselves. Clearwater Spring looked to be in fine enough condition, though. No more than five paces across in either direction, the pool of water was so clear and fresh I could see straight down to the underwater cave it welled up from. From its source, the spring flowed through the wreckage of the camp, then out and under the stakewall to join the Evergrass. And that was where I spotted the first body. My skin crawled at the sight.

Half hidden behind a pile of rubble, the dead man jerked and twitched as if still alive. Then, a scaled foot planted itself on the man’s chest. A massive beak ripped back and tore a chunk of flesh from his corpse. The beak chomped once, twice, then tipped back and slid the meat down its throat.

“Ancestors above... ” I said, frozen in awe at the sight of the thing.

It stood as tall as me, at least, and was the biggest bird I’d ever seen.

In a way, its name felt deceiving when compared to the actual living creature. “Bird” tended to conjure up images of feathered, flapping things. Small, mostly, with thin legs, fragile bones, and small, though sharp, talons. To be fair, the terror bird had all of those things, just... bigger and meaner in every possible way.

The bird’s foot—still on the dead man’s chest—clenched, and talons that looked like they’d been stolen right off the hand of a wendiguar cut into the flesh. One of the corpse’s ribs cracked, sharp and quick, and I shuddered.

With the bird’s foot clenched, muscles had tensed and risen in its leg. A leg that was as thick as my calf, but where mine was mostly fatty flesh, this one was nothing but bone and muscle wrapped in a thick, almost scaled, hide. The leg was jointed with a backward slanted ankle halfway up, then leaned forward into a thick, somehow even more muscled, thigh.

“No good eating on that thing,” Senesio said, shaking his head. “Meat tough as rawhide, I bet.”

I ignored him, still transfixed by the specimen. If I survived this, at least I’d have had a good enough view of the bird to sketch it for our library.

The terror bird’s torso was thick and covered with dense, dark green feathers, mottled with flecks of brown and the occasional white tip. Short wings were clutched close and tucked into its sides.

A powerful neck, thick as my own but twice as long, rose from the torso, topped by a head with wide, alert eyes. As I watched, the pupils snapped and flicked from place to place in flitting, avian movements.

Farther along the head, feathers gradually gave way to skin, then a thick beak, faintly orange in color. Some birds, like those I’d seen fishing in the shallow waters of the Evergrass, had thin, narrow beaks—rapier-like in quality. Others, such as hawks, had short, curved and pointed beaks. Daggers, those were. In comparison, the terror bird’s beak was a two-handed battle-ax. Thick, heavy, and sharply edged, it looked to be as effective at cutting and tearing as simply bludgeoning prey to death.

“I see why they’re called ‘terror birds,’” I whispered, bracing for the old familiar fear to return and sweep away the new me. But it didn’t.

“Eh, big chickens, they are.” Senesio nodded to the open gate of the outpost where five more of the things were visible. That left three unaccounted for, assuming Oz’s original count of nine was correct.

“Well, best we’re about it, huh?” Senesio slid off the edge of the walkway until he was hanging by only his hands. “Coming?” he asked, looking up at me, then let go and dropped down to the ground with hardly a sound.

He landed, then bent into a crouch and snuck behind the nearest pile of rubble.

Old Suni would have hesitated, but I wasn’t Old Suni anymore. I followed without a second thought, sliding off the walkway, landing with only one stumble, then joining Senesio.

Once I arrived, I took a moment to observe our surroundings. Senesio and I were hidden at the base of the western stretch of stakewall. The open gate and the terror birds were at the eastern end, and the Welkin was at the center of everything. Still, from this view, apparently undamaged.

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The birds weren’t on the Welkin, but they were near enough to it that any attempt to board would likely catch their attention. But that was where Senesio came in, right?

“Alright, let’s see how they like a little fresh meat,” he said, digging in his pocket, then pulling out the catfish Oz had caught for just this purpose.

“Incoming!” Senesio hissed, then lobbed the fish across the outpost. It slapped down to the upper walkway with a wet splat.

Peeking around the edge of our rubble pile, I could see the closest terror bird snap up from its meal, then rise to its full height as its searched for the source of the noise. A low, echoing growl, with just the slightest of raspy hints, poured forth as the bird spread its wings slightly and advanced cautiously.

“Yeah, that’s right. Look over there. Pay no attention to the skyship or the locked gate,” Senesio whispered.

More birds were turning toward the fish now. They’d noticed the first bird’s reaction and mirrored it. Three, four, then five emerged from around the compound, eyes scanning as they inched forward, one careful, heavy step at a time.

“Ancestors above, but these birds are stupid,” Senesio said.

If anything, though, the terror birds’ suspicion seemed to indicate the opposite. Most prey animals tended to ignore anything except clear signs of a predator nearby. Carnivores, on the other hand, tended to be more aware of their environment. It was a necessity when one hunted for survival.

The birds were all growling now, throats vibrating with the sound as they closed in on the fish. From up on the stakewall’s walkway, it was a good three paces above them.

The closest bird crouched low, loading up its legs, then launched into the air. Its wings flared out and long talons tore into the wood walkway, catching its balance as it landed.

“Wow. That was a jump,” I whispered, unable to ignore it. There was so much to be learned from the sight. The way the muscles had loaded up in the terror bird’s legs, the way it’d used its wings to help it up. It was obvious the animals didn’t have the wingspan to actually fly, implying the wings were vestigial, but clearly they still had some practical use.

Okay, enough observation.

“I need to let the others in,” I said, pulling my eyes from the birds and turning toward the western gate. Was the chain on it locked, or just held in place by some simple mechanism? If it was locked, we were going to have a problem. Darn. I should have thought of that first.

No, no problem, I told myself, forcing a long breath to calm my rapid pulse. Calm, cool, and confident. I got this.

The fish had created a good distraction and Senesio was ready to create a bigger one if need be. The western gate I had to get to wasn’t all that far away, and it was even obscured by the remains of a building that had crashed against the palisade. That’d keep me out of sight. Once I covered the twenty paces of open space first, that was.

I got this. I can do this.

“Alright,” I said. “Here I go. While they’re distracted.” I sucked in a deep breath, then made to move.

“Wait.”

Senesio’s hand was on my shoulder.

“Something’s wrong.” Senesio was staring at the birds.

“Yeah, we’re trapped in here with a bunch of giant predatory birds.”

“Not that,” he said, frowning, then nodded toward the fish. “That.”

I turned my eyes to it. I’d expected the birds to have started pecking at it by now. A free meal was a free meal, right? But even as I watched, they were holding back.

The bird next to it on the walkway leaned in close, its movements steady despite the barely restrained athleticism clear in its tensed muscles. Its head twitched up and down ever so slightly, as if it were smelling the fish?

The bird stopped all at once, then backed up a pace. It snapped its beak twice and let out a low squawk. Was it communicating something? It appeared so, as the other birds tensed and spun around.

“Oh hell.” I did my best to melt into the ground as they spread out, sniffing as they went. Had they smelled Senesio’s scent on the fish? Did they know we were here?

Senesio reached for another fish.

“No,” I said, stopping him.

The plan had been to use the fish to keep the birds distracted until we could board the skyship. A flimsy plan, admittedly, but the best we’d had. Now, however, things were changing.

“They can smell your scent on the fish,” I hurriedly whispered.

Senesio sniffed his armpit.

“I don’t stink that bad.”

“No, it’s not—get down!” I pulled Senesio as low as we could go as a terror bird rounded the corner of the Welkin just off to our right. It cocked its head toward us, but it couldn’t see us, right?

“We have to move,” I whispered urgently, then crawled along the ground, away from the western gate, but following a line of debris. If we stayed low, we could keep out of sight. Until the bird got close enough to see over the debris, that was.

Go, go, go! I urged myself on, crawling on my elbows and dragging my body along behind me at a painfully slow pace.

A sound reached my ears. A great sucking, almost like the bellows of a furnace. The terror bird, sniffing the air, and drawing closer by the moment. I couldn’t see it, was too busy crawling forward, but I could hear it. Could hear the sniffing and then a growl from deep down in the creature’s throat.

“Inside!” I hissed, as Senesio and I reached the remains of a burned-out building hidden in the shadow of the stakewall. My foot hit a stray piece of wood as I rolled inside. Senesio was right behind me.

I peeked out from our hiding place just long enough to see the bird had reached our previous spot. It pressed its beak to the ground, rubbing it in the dirt and sniffing all the while.

“They’re onto us,” I said, feeling panic rising in my chest. “Shit. Oh shit.” What were we going to do? There was no way out but through the far gate and that was all the way across the compound. Was there even a clear path to get there? I peeked out from between two scorched beams, searching for a route. A second bird appeared, this one closer than the first and staring, it seemed, right at me.

My stomach felt like it’d fallen through my feet as I ducked back into the shadows. I swallowed hard.

“It knows we’re here.”

“Looks like our fish has let us down.” Senesio was smiling.

“What are you grinning about?” I hissed, then clapped a hand over my own mouth as the birds drew closer. Two of them, from the sounds of sniffing, and mere paces away now.

An all-too-familiar panic swelled in my chest and, just like that, New Suni was gone. What had I been thinking coming here? Sure, it’d sounded right and bold when it’d come to mind, but now we were trapped. And I’d volunteered! The adrenaline, the bravado, the insanity from earlier was gone, and all I was left with were my doubts and fears. And oh hell, why was I doing this?

“We’re dead,” I said, grabbing for my dagger. “We’re dead.” In my haste I fumbled the blade, and it tumbled to the floorboards with a resounding clatter.

I froze, staring down at the knife. Then slowly, slowly, raised my eyes to the birds outside. Both were locked onto me, eyes unmoving. A growl rose in their throats, growing louder as they opened their beaks and spread their wings.

“It’s over,” I said.

“It’s showtime,” Senesio replied.