Chapter 12

It was a chilly and miserable dawn that greeted the robin and the bullfinch on their return to their homeland. Birddom was under a pall of grey, unrelenting cloud and the gloomy weather matched perfectly the mood of the two dispirited birds. Depressed by their failure in Wingland, but, in some indefinable way, feeling the need for urgency, they did not stop to exchange news with Kraken, but by-passed his cliff-top home, and journeyed on.

From what Swoop had told them, the pair had realised that it was to Isidris, the snowy owl, that she had spoken. Tomar must have asked him to stay on, rather than return to his own home in the western mountains, when the Great Owl had decided to journey north to meet the threat of that insidious magpie, Traska. Therefore, it was to Isidris that they must report their failure and from him seek wisdom and guidance. The Council of the Owls would be desperate for news, but would surely want happier tidings than those they had to offer. Having rested on the ferry boat during the return crossing, neither bird was tired. But both felt emotionally drained. It took a supreme effort of will for Portia and Mickey to cover the final few miles to the Council site. Isidris was waiting for them, as they flew in over the treetops and dropped down onto a roost.

The snowy owl had hunted unusually early that night, as if he had anticipated that the pair would return and have need of him. He greeted them traditionally, in sonorous tones, and they returned the courtesies, although with heads hung low. Isidris did his best to comfort them.

“Well met, my friends. But why such downcast faces? Is the end of the world to be visited upon us so soon? Remember that we have faced, and defeated, that shadow.”

Portia’s eyes welled with tears as she answered, with an agonised question of her own. “Isn’t it true that the shadow still lives and now threatens to destroy my children, as it did my husband?”

“Peace, child. The threat that Traska poses is negligible, when compared to the all-encompassing evil of Slyekin’s schemes. Birddom is whole once more.”

Portia’s anger surprised Isidris. “How can you sit there and say such a thing? That magpie is evil, and Birddom can never be whole while such evil remains. The sickness from one rotten fruit can spread to blight a whole tree. Don’t you dare tell me that the danger to my children is insignificant!”

“Forgive me, Portia. I meant no such insult to you, or to your family. I counted it a great honour to have met Kirrick and would do or say nothing that could offend his memory.”

“Yes, I know that, Isidris. Tiredness and frustration have given me a harsh tongue.”

“Then rest for the moment. We will talk again later. I know that you are anxious to be reunited with Merion and Olivia. But you will need your strength for that journey.”

“Now tell me,” Isidris began, when Portia sat before him some hours later. “Your adventure in Wingland did not go according to our plans, is that not so?”

“We failed utterly,” replied the dispirited robin.

“Do not be so sure, Portia. You have planted a seed that may yet grow. But I do not believe that any bird living could have achieved any greater success on such a mission. And if the Creator decrees that it was not to be, then we must think again and make plans anew for our future. It may be that our hopes will not be realised for many a generation and we ourselves may all be dead when they come to fruition. All of this I cannot foresee. I have not the gift like Tomar.

Perhaps that is why he is Great Owl and I am merely one of the troops.”

“How can you speak that way?” Portia blurted out, upset at Isidris’ self-mockery. “Throughout the land all the members of the Council of the Owls are held in the highest esteem. Do not doubt your worth to Birddom. It is one hundred-fold greater than my own.”

“You shame me with your courtesy, Portia. But there is no advantage or benefit to be gained in an argument as to whose life is of greater value to Birddom. Let us just agree that, in the vast scheme of things, both of us remain utterly indispensable to her future and that, when we pass from this world, Birddom will diminish greatly!”

In spite of her misery and anxiety, Portia found herself laughing along with the snowy owl. It felt good to shed her burden, at least for a moment, and the merriment swept through her like a gale, purifying her spirits. Her eyes were bright and shining when she regained control of herself and looked at Isidris, and the owl felt glad at heart that such resilience still held sway in the little robin. She would have great need of it in the days and weeks to come.

“All of that, however, is hopefully far ahead of us,” Isidris continued. “There are more immediate and pressing concerns. Another long journey now faces you, but do not be afraid. You will not have to face it alone. I know that Mickey would follow you to the ends of the earth, if it were asked of him. But, if you would accept my company, I would be honoured to fly north with you. My beak itches for action, and I believe that I could be of some help to my friend, Tomar.”

It was the bullfinch who spoke up, in typically forthright manner. “I was chosen by the Council to be Portia’s companion on any and all perilous journeys, and I believe that I have proved myself equal to the task. And, as for being of help to the Great Owl, surely he charged you with the responsibility of leading Birddom in his absence. Is it meeting such responsibilities to go gallivanting across the country, as you suggest?”

“Well. It is a humbling experience to be put in my place by one so small in stature, if not in courage. You speak wisely, my friend. It seems that wisdom is not the prerogative of owls. Though inactivity grates with me, I will stay here and carry out my duties, as you say. Portia needs no other companion to ensure her safety. She could have no truer friend than you, Mickey. But enough talk. I have been properly put in my place. Yours is far from here, at the side of your children. Go now.”

The further south that Venga journeyed, the more dangerous that journey became. Magpies were truly not welcome in any part of the land, but it seemed that Birddom’s vigilance was greater in its heartland. Venga was forced to proceed almost entirely under the cover of darkness, which held great perils of its own. Night was not a natural time for travelling, unless you were an owl, or a predator on the lookout for a tasty meal of magpie!

The corvidae that he met were few and far between, and he learned little from them. To a bird, they were scared and showed scant concern for anything beyond their own survival. It took a great number of dispiriting encounters before Venga gleaned any news of Traska. The evil magpie was, it seemed, reviled even by his own kind for his cowardice in the Great Battle, where his abundant sense of self-preservation in avoiding any direct confrontation with their enemies was not viewed favourably. His name was spat out with scorn by the survivors of that conflict to whom Venga talked. It seemed that, once the battle was lost, Traska had fled and vanished without trace.

So, where could Traska have gone? Exhaustive questioning revealed nothing further concerning the evil magpie’s probable whereabouts. The trail was utterly cold. It was hopeless. Venga, in his naiveté, had never even considered the possibility that he would not be able to find his foe. It had been at the very core of his existence, awake and asleep, since his birth. The confrontation. The fight to the death. The victory. And now he had failed even to find his adversary. Traska had completely disappeared. Dejection swamped the young magpie. Venga thought about his mother. She had placed her trust in him. His whole life was dedicated to her revenge. He could not, and would not, fail her.

So, Venga remained where he was, risking capture in pursuit of his destiny. He cast his net wider and finally made the attempt of finding information from sources beyond his own kind. Birddom’s loathing of the corvidae – with good reason, he knew – precluded open discourse between the magpie and any member of the small bird populace.

Venga was forced to adopt similar though far less brutal tactics than Traska, in order to elicit the information that he needed. Only by threats could he gain the necessary knowledge for his pursuit to succeed. But each act of aggression raised the stakes for Venga. His activities would very soon bring retribution upon his own head. The young magpie desperately needed a break.

Finally, when he had all but given up hope, Fortune smiled upon him. Fleeing the immediate vicinity of his enquiries when the owls began hunting for him, he travelled several miles to the north, before falling, exhausted, into a clump of bushes at the edge of a fast-flowing stream.

Anisse’s shock, at seeing the magpie so close to her nest, was palpable. The grebe had suffered grievously at the wings of the corvidae, when she had aided Kirrick. The physical scars of the assault upon her were faded and healed, but, emotionally, she was still redraw and bleeding. Her first thoughts were to kill the magpie while he slept. It would merely be justice, after all that had been done to her by his kind. But the grebe’s essential goodness balked at such an act of barbarism. No matter the cost to herself, Anisse could not take another bird’s life.

Venga’s first impressions, upon waking, were of a needle-sharp beak and a glint of hatred in the grebe’s eye.

“Why do you look at me like that?” the magpie asked. “What injury have I done to you?”

Anisse was somewhat taken aback by the magpie’s tone of voice. It had a strength and directness that reminded her of her previous encounters with the band of magpies who had harmed her, and of their vicious leader in particular. But the voice held no threat. There was no trace of aggression in the questions that he asked. Anisse forced herself to meet his gaze and, on doing so, could immediately see that he had suffered much himself. His one good eye returned her open stare.

‘He is not afraid, and he does not wish me to be so,’ the grebe thought. “You really ought to take greater care, traveller. These are not friendly regions for a magpie. Indeed, few places are. Your race has done much ill in the land.”

“While I draw breath I will always carry the regret inside me for the actions of my own kind. Birddom has suffered terrible loss. Much more so than I could ever have imagined before making my journey.”

Anisse could see the look of genuine sadness in Venga’s solitary eye and she decided that here was one magpie that she should help, if she were able. “You speak of a journey. From the look of you, it would seem to have been a perilous one indeed. Why have you taken the risk, when all of Birddom is set against you?”

“I could not do otherwise,” the magpie replied. “There is one of my own kind – corrupt, evil, and iniquitous – that I must find and kill if I can. His name is Traska. He raped my mother.”

At first Venga thought that Anisse’s sharply hissing intake of breath was as a result of shock at the vile action of the magpie that he hunted. But he quickly realised that the grebe had recognised the name. “You know this villain?” he asked.

“Better than I would ever have wished to,” she replied, showing him the scars of her encounters with that terrible bird.

“My wish to kill him for what he did to my mother, Katya, is strengthened by seeing the harm that he has done to you. He deserves to die!”

“I can scarcely take this all in!” Anisse breathed incredulously. “Surely, the Creator works in mysterious ways, when magpie seeks retribution upon magpie. But you will need an extremely long beak to wreak your revenge from here, my friend!”

The young magpie’s head snapped up. “You know where he is?” he demanded.

“I know only that news has recently reached the Council of the Owls of a resurgence of mayhem and violence to the far north. It is thought to be Traska’s work. The bird that you seek is there, not here.”

Shock and disbelief registered on Venga’s face. Traska was in his home? His mother’s home! It was too terrible. Katya’s mission for her son had sent away her only protection. But how could they have foreseen that the danger would be right under their beaks? He must go now. Immediately. And pray that he would not be too late!