Joe began to busy herself in the kitchen, preparing bacon and eggs. “So you’re the one we’ve all been waiting for.”
“I wish people wouldn’t keep saying that,” Skylark said. “When they do it’s like the music from 2001: A Space Odyssey comes booming out of stereo loudspeakers. I don’t know if I am or not.”
“You’d better be!” Joe smiled. “Or maybe you’re an egg a cuckoo has sneaked into the nest? Though I can see that Hoki gave you the claw. Did Birdy give you the feather?”
“This sounds like a shopping list,” Skylark groaned.
“Well,” Joe answered, “let’s see what is here to give you.” She went into the sitting room and opened the glass cabinet. Inside was a box, from which she took out a leather-bound book. “This is the Apocrypha,” she said. Her voice was hushed and awed. “I asked Birdy if I could borrow it because, as you know, all of us were waiting for you to appear, and I’m just new at this game and didn’t know how to prepare for it.”
“New?”
“It was my Auntie Ruth who was really the guardian of the birds in this area. This was her island.”
“That explains it,” Skylark answered. “I was wondering why you were so young and, well, different from Hoki, Bella and Birdy.”
Joe leafed through the Apocrypha. “Let’s see … you’ve got the claw and the feather and now … Ah! Here we are.” She traced some lines with her finger:
And the Lord Tane said unto Te Arikinui Kotuku:
“And the chick shall seek and be given claw, feather and beak, and these shall be given unto her by wise guardians of that time to come that I have earlier spoken of …”
Skylark tried not to sound grumpy. “You mean I’ve come all this way just to pick up a claw, feather and a beak?”
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” Joe said, wagging a finger. “A claw is not just a claw. A feather is not just a feather. A beak is not just a beak. You diminish a thing’s mana, its prestige, when you consider it as such. It is connected to other things and, of itself, it represents a larger thing. Take a leaf of a tree, for instance: it represents the tree. Take a scale of a fish: it represents the fish. So too with a claw, feather and beak; they represent the birds that these things come from. But that is not where it stops. The bird represents a colony. It has a history and a place where it has been born, and where it lives and will die. It is connected to all that exists on the earth and in the universe. In the small thing is the genetic imprint of the larger thing. From it can be made a whole bird. You must revere the small things as well as the larger things. You must learn to see not just with your eyes but with your heart and intelligence.”
That’s telling me, Skylark thought.
At that moment, Arnie returned from his workout. “You should see some of the weightlifting gear Joe’s got in her barn!” Having got rid of the toxins of the past few days, he was feeling a very happy chappy indeed.
“You’d better hear all this too,” Joe said as she returned to the Apocrypha:
“Then shalt the chick have in her possession the three keys, beak, feather and claw, that wilt open the Time Portal for her own pilgrimage back to the time that is. But the portal will be opened for the space of seven moons only, counting from the first hour that the sky has opened, so should the chick not appear in time, then will the opportunity be lost. But if the chick goes through the portal, I, the Lord Tane, will grant her safe passage back to that time conjoined. And she will determine the outcome of the second battle of the birds —”
And the Runanga a Manu praised the Lord Tane for his mercy and they carried his words down from one beak to the next. Then came the arrival of Tane’s next great creation, Humankind, and Tane’s words were passed, in particular, to Hana, the first handmaiden of the Lord Tane, who could speak to the birds. It was Hana who set up the sisterhood of the handmaidens of Tane and bade that the Lord Tane’s words be placed in an apocrypha to be passed from handmaiden to successor. All were entreated to keep watch for the chick who would appear in the third year of the second millennium and to give her the keys to open the Time Portal.
Woe of woes, it is written that in the seventh generation a copy of the Apocrypha fell into the wings of the seashags so that they knew also of the chick’s predicted coming. They too passed the prediction down from one generation to the next so that they would be prepared for her, to kill her in order to confound the prophecy and opportunity the Lord Tane had given unto the Runanga a Manu.
And these are the words which have been passed down from generation to generation and even unto and throughout the times which have seen the coming of Tane’s other great creation: the wingless, beakless and clawless inferior being known as man.
Thus we continue to praise Tane at dawn and dusk unto the world’s end, and again we bow down to his holy name, Amen.
Joe closed the book. Skylark began to shiver. “Hey, Arnie, I’ve got a bounty on my head,” she said, trying to joke. She thought Arnie might make a smart crack but he didn’t. Instead, he put a reassuring hand on hers — and kept it there.
“Okay,” Joe said when breakfast was over, “two moons are already gone and the Time Portal is only open for another five days. Let’s go and get Skylark’s beak.” She strapped a Bowie knife to her left thigh and led the way out of the house and along the beach until they hit a track around the coast. Skylark saw a huge signpost, facing out to sea: Keep Out. Private Property. Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted. All Animals Will Be ShotOn Sight.
“I give everybody due warning,” Joe said, “but do you think yachties and rich pleasure-boat owners take any notice? They’re a law unto themselves. Before you know it they’re anchoring off the island and darting over here on their zodiacs with their cat or pet dog, champagne and dinner. They have a great time littering my beach, and then they return to their boats — but, dear oh dear, did we leave our darling Moggie or Fido behind? Before you know it, Fido or dear little kitty has turned into a bird killer. And if it’s not a cat or a dog, it’s a rat that has snuck on board and then, when the boat’s at anchor, swum ashore. Once here, anything on four legs — actually, on two legs as well — can play havoc with the birds, especially ground birds.”
Joe took a track leading away from the coast. The island’s forest opened, allowing them to enter, and then closed behind them. They were surrounded by giant tree trunks, like the palisades of some forest fortress. Some of the trunks had flying buttresses. Others were wrapped around with vines and flowering supplejack in brilliant profusion. Between them grew huge tree ferns. Above, the sun filtered golden through the canopy, filling the dark spaces below with veiled light. Wherever the light fell it dazzled and glowed.
How had Hoki described the Great Forest? Like the Garden of Eden. The wonder of the southern world. The lungs of the earth. Even to stand in a remnant of that whole, on this island guarded by Joe, was to evoke the power of how the Great Forest must have been.
And truly, it was the kingdom of the birds. The canopy was alive, positively seething with kakariki, tui and other pigeon species. They set up a cacophony of musical whistles and high piping welcomes.
Kita-kita-kita-kita. Chichichi. Zweet zweet zwee.
Joe put her fingers to her lips and whistled and warbled back. The pigeons redoubled their efforts, and a competition ensued — at least that’s how it sounded to Skylark. Joe gave up with a laugh. “You guys are ganging up on me again.” The pigeons warbled and chortled and cooed.