The Invasion of Boston

Blue Feather

Loki flew east, followed by Surt and the other raptors. Now that he was actually carrying out his plan, the crow felt a pang of regret. He quickly shook himself. This is a matter of survival, he thought. Besides, he had given Hoogol and the Feathered Alliance a chance to surrender and they had mocked him.

"Why are we flying away from the river?" Surt snapped.

"If you want to cross the river without alerting the Winged Regiment," Loki replied, "there's only one way to do it."

The crow suddenly found what he was looking for and dropped from the sky. The raptors joined him on the sidewalk and watched as he hopped forward and peered through a steel grate in the side of a building. A section of the bars had long ago rusted away, leaving just enough space for them to slip through. Beneath them lay nothing but darkness.

"A hole in a wall?" Gunlad asked suspiciously.

"I'm warning you," Surt said, "if this is some sort of trick—"

"It's no trick," Loki assured them. "However, if you're afraid..."

"Lead the way!" the falcon ordered.

Loki hunched next to the grate, listening intently. He heard nothing. It seemed like the perfect moment.

"Now!" Loki yelled. He folded his wings and dropped through the hole, quickly followed by Surt and the other raptors. They fluttered down an old shaft and emerged into a dimly lit tunnel. The ceiling was made of yellow tile that reflected the grimy lights set in the walls. Below them, steel tracks vanished into the distance.

"Where are we?" Surt yelled.

"Beneath the streets!" Loki answered. "The humans have a system of tunnels that can take us anywhere we want to go. Now hurry! We don't have much time."

"What are you afraid of?" Surt asked.

As if in response, the raptors heard a high-pitched squeal behind them. A pair of lights that looked like the eyes of a giant monster appeared in the distance and quickly grew brighter.

"Fly! Fly!" Loki screamed.

The birds furiously beat their wings, following the tunnel as it rounded a bend and widened into an underground station. Startled humans stumbled back as the birds swooped over their heads and landed on a narrow ledge set high in the wall, just as the iron monster roared into the station and came to a stop.

"You fool!" Surt roared. "You almost got us killed!"

"Almost doesn't count," the crow said. "Now come on. We need to catch a ride." The raptors followed Loki as he flew down and dropped onto the tracks behind the last car of the train. Then they hopped beneath the car and grabbed hold of the undercarriage.

"Now what do we do?" Gunlad asked.

"Now we hang on," Loki replied. "We're about to get the ride of our lives!"

The train suddenly lurched and began to move. Surt and the other raptors tightened their grip and flattened themselves to avoid being blown off by the sheer force of the acceleration. Within seconds, the train was speeding down the tracks. Panic overwhelmed the raptors as their feathers were blasted in every direction. A putrid haze filled the air, tearing at their lungs. It took all of their strength just to breathe.

"Loki, I'm going to kill you for this!" Surt shouted as he stared at the spinning wheels just inches from his head. One wrong move would mean certain death.

After what seemed like hours but was only a few minutes, a light appeared ahead of them and grew brighter. The train suddenly burst out of the tunnel and rocketed over Longfellow Bridge. The birds blinked their eyes in the bright light of day. Beneath them, sailboats glided lazily over the Charles River.

"Look there!" Loki cried.

The raptors followed the crow's gaze. On the bank of the river, they could just make out the sparrows hidden in the trees.

"Don't worry," Loki said. "They're too busy watching the sky to notice us."

The train reached the far side of the bridge, passed the Winged Regiment, then began to slow. "Follow me!" Loki yelled. The raptors took flight and followed the crow to a patch of trees.

"You fool!" Surt roared as they took refuge amid its branches and greedily gulped the fresh air. "You call that a plan?"

"You wanted to enter the city without being detected," Loki replied smugly. "Mission accomplished. Now stay close and keep low. The Winged Regiment has spies everywhere."

Loki took to the air and headed toward the Boston Common. Surt, Gunlad, and the hawks followed as the crow flew low through side streets and back alleys, always keeping an eye out for signs of the enemy.

As they approached Copley Square, the John Hancock Tower loomed before them, its glass exterior reflecting the city around it.

"We have to reach the top," Loki yelled.

The raptors hurtled forward. Out in the open, they were far better fliers than he was, and the crow soon found himself falling behind. He gasped for breath as he struggled to gain altitude. He finally reached the top of the sixtieth floor and collapsed on the roof.

"What's the matter, crow?" Surt asked. "That little flight wear you out?"

Loki dragged himself to his feet and joined the raptors at the roof's edge. The city of Boston lay before them in a breathtaking panorama. From this vantage point, they could see the sparrows in the trees lining the Charles River, waiting for the birds of prey to cross.

Loki directed their attention to Copley Square. "That belfry is the headquarters of the Feathered Alliance. Hoogol and the rest of the clan leaders will be inside."

"Excellent," Surt said. "You've done well. Now fly to the river and signal the attack."

Blue Feather paced back and forth in the belfry of the Old South Church, careful not to wake the other clan leaders, the majority of whom were still asleep. They had been up late discussing the strengths and weaknesses of various plans in case of an attack. It had been a night of endless bickering. For a long time, nobody could agree on anything. Finally it was decided that the Winged Regiment could hold off the raptors long enough for the leaders to escape, should the need arise.

Blue Feather didn't like the idea of fleeing the city. What if Ragtag returned and they were gone? Nobody had seen or heard from him since last night. Tattler had told her Ragtag had flown off toward the harbor after the clan leaders' departure. He had talked about running away, but Tattler didn't think he would go through with it.

Why did Ragtag have to be so stubborn? Blue Feather couldn't understand his behavior. The idea that he had befriended an eagle was just too hard to believe—yet Tattler had told her she believed him.

Blue Feather fluttered over to the corner of the belfry, where a pair of gulls had stacked branches covered with bayberries. She knew she should eat to keep up her strength, but she had no appetite. She was too worried about Ragtag.

The swallow turned her attention to Hoogol and Proud Beak, who were talking quietly near the wheel. As usual, Bobtail was hovering next to them. If there was anything important going on, Bobtail had to be in the thick of it. Blue Feather knew he dreamt of one day leading the alliance. She was proud of Bobtail's ambitions, but she wished he would express a bit more concern for his own brother.

Blue Feather crossed to a window and looked down at the library. For a brief moment, she half expected to see Ragtag sunning himself atop the roof, as he did most mornings. Her spirits sank when she didn't.

"There's nothing you can do, Mom," Bobtail said behind her. "It's no good worrying."

"I'm a nervous wreck," Blue Feather said as her son approached. "I'm afraid Ragtag's run off for good."

"Bah!" Bobtail replied, sounding just like Proud Beak. "He's just sulking. No doubt he'll fly back when he gets hungry."

Blue Feather glanced at Proud Beak and Hoogol, then lowered her voice. "You're very close to Proud Beak. Isn't there anything you can do? Perhaps a well-placed word..."

Bobtail rolled his eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, Mom, we're a bit busy. I don't think now would be a good time to mention Ragtag's name."

"But what if the raptors invade? What if we're forced to flee?"

"Don't worry. I'm sure Ragtag and his imaginary eagle can take care of themselves."

"Bobtail, get over here!" Proud Beak called from across the room.

"I have to go," Bobtail said quickly to his mother. "Don't tell anybody this, but I think Hoogol may make me third-in-command of the Feathered Alliance!"

Bobtail turned and hurried back to Proud Beak and Hoogol. Blue Feather sighed and shook her head. Perhaps Bobtail was right. Maybe Ragtag had to learn to take care of himself. Determined not to worry any more about Ragtag, Blue Feather turned and hopped away from the window.

She just missed seeing Loki heading for the river.

Ragtag glided aimlessly over the streets lining the city's waterfront. Now that he had been banished from the alliance, he had all the time in the world. There was nobody to tell him what to do and—best of all—nobody to yell at him or call him irresponsible. He should have been the happiest bird in the world. So why wasn't he?

The swallow scanned the streets beneath him. He had never seen the clans in such a state. Some, like the finches and the robins, were busy hoarding food and camouflaging their nests. Others, like the blackbirds and the magpies, had given up all hope and were abandoning their homes. Parents tried desperately to keep their young ones together as hundreds of families took to the sky and headed south in droves.

Ragtag's thoughts turned to his own family. They were probably busy helping Hoogol and Proud Beak. No doubt Bobtail was having the time of his life, pretending to be infinitely more important than he really was.

He fluttered down to a park bench and watched as a flock of sparrows headed west to reinforce those already encamped by the river. Ragtag was seized with the sudden urge to join them, but he knew that if he did, he would just be in the way. Swallows weren't allowed in the Winged Regiment. They were too slow to be of any real use in a fight.

As he watched the birds around him, Ragtag began to realize the full magnitude of what was about to happen. For the first time in his life, he felt truly afraid.

He closed his eyes and dreamt he was lost in a vast labyrinth. From somewhere ahead of him came the cry of an eagle. Ragtag flew through the maze, desperately calling Baldur's name. But every time he thought he'd spotted him, it turned out to be nothing more than a shadow.

"What are they waiting for?" Headstrong asked. "I wish they would just get it over with. Why don't they attack?"

"They will when they're ready," Tattler replied as she watched him spread his wings. "Where are you going?"

"To inspect the troops."

"You've done that five times in the last hour."

"It gives me something to do," Headstrong muttered. "It's better than just sitting around here waiting for our funeral."

As Tattler watched him fly off, her thoughts drifted back to the time she had narrowly defeated him in the competition to determine the leadership of the Winged Regiment. Instead of holding a grudge, he had become her most loyal friend and adviser. Headstrong trusted her, and she hoped with all her heart she wouldn't let him down.

Tattler's claws tightened on the branch beneath her. Why didn't they attack? Headstrong was right. Being forced to sit around and do nothing was unbearable. She thought she would lose her mind if she had to wait much longer.

As it turned out, she didn't have to wait long at all. A cry of alarm was suddenly raised by the sparrows in the surrounding trees. Loki zoomed past her and headed out over the water. Halfway across the river, he banked left and flew parallel to the shore.

"Caw-caw!" the crow screamed at the top of his lungs.

His cry was picked up by the raptors hidden on the opposite shore, the screeches sending a chill through the sparrows. They watched as the birds of prey took to the air and began to cross the river.

Tattler took a deep breath. "This is it!" she called. Instantly, hundreds of sparrows launched themselves from the surrounding trees.

Tattler and Headstrong skimmed low over the waves, furiously flapping their wings to gain as much speed as possible. Behind them, the Winged Regiment spread out to make their numbers appear greater.

A great cry arose from the Talon Empire as they spotted their opponents. Hawks, harriers, ospreys, and falcons screamed in anticipation of the battle.

In the middle of the river, a fisherman in a rowboat cast his rod. He glanced up at the sky and toppled back in shock. Above him, the Winged Regiment collided with the birds of prey. The sudden mass of wings and feathers blotted out the sun.

High above the river, Tattler darted about, beak snapping. Talons slashed at her, but the sparrow was too quick. She bolted away as a hawk shrieked in rage. Beating her wings, she flew higher and fell in next to a pair of her comrades.

"Follow me!" Tattler yelled over the screams below. The sparrows nodded, frantically trying to keep up with their leader.

The three birds climbed into the sky, then suddenly reversed course and dove toward an osprey. They closed ranks and collided as one, breaking the osprey's back. The impact knocked Tattler senseless for a moment. She shook her head, then watched as the osprey hit the water and sank out of sight.

"First blood to us!" Tattler yelled.

A falcon screamed and shot toward her. Tattler banked to one side, wincing in pain as she lost a few feathers. She darted through the mass of fighting birds, then doubled back and rammed the falcon. The raptor shrugged her off as if she were a mosquito.

A heartrending cry from below suddenly stopped Tattler in midair. She watched in horror as a northern goshawk pursued a wounded sparrow. A dozen members of the Winged Regiment tried to come to the sparrow's aid, but the goshawk plowed through them.

"Climb, you fool!" Tattler called, and dove toward the terrified bird, even though she knew there was no way she could reach him in time.

"Save me! Save me!" the sparrow called to his comrades as he rose toward the sun in a vain attempt to blind his opponent.

"There'll be no saving you!" the goshawk snarled. His talons slashed the sparrow's back, and the wounded bird dropped like a rock.

"No!" Tattler cried. She closed her eyes as the sparrow slammed into the river, sending a plume of water three feet into the air.

"We're getting massacred out here!" Headstrong yelled as he flew up beside Tattler.

"We have no choice!" Tattler said. "Keep at them. We need to give the clan leaders time to escape."

Headstrong nodded and dove back into the fray. As Tattler evaded a harrier's snapping beak, she realized with a sinking heart that it was hopeless. The battle was already lost.