Once Turnatt had been an ordinary red hawk, no more fearsome than most of his kind. He snorted in disgust to remember it. In those days he had dwelled in makeshift burrows and had had no ambitions beyond the next meal he could catch. All of that horror had changed one day when he had taken shelter from a rainstorm in a cave, a crack in the face of a tall cliff. There, tucked away in a niche in the wall, he had found an old leather-bound book, the Book of Heresy.
From the first page, the first sentence, Turnatt had been bewitched. He thought about it in the daytime, dreamed about it at night, and even slept with his head resting on the musty, ancient pages of the dark tome. There was one passage in particular that he turned back to again and again. It told him that if a bird ate a woodbird egg every day, he would live for years and years-perhaps forever!
Turnatt had started to raid woodbirds’ nests, but it was hard work; the little birds fought furiously to defend their young, so every egg was bought with scars and bruises. Turnatt did not want to waste his time to battle woodbirds. He found himself a band of crows and ravens and ordered them to do his nest raiding for him.
Then he’d needed servants to care for his army and somewhere for them to live. That was when he had decided to catch woodbirds as slaves and force them to build him a luxurious fortress.
The Book of Heresy had been his cherished companion through it all. It had transformed him from an ordinary bird in rags who lived worse than tramps to a sly tyrant in silks who dwelled better than kings! Turnatt stroked the leather cover with a gentle claw. He had sent Slime-beak out to bring back cardinals and blue jays. They’d be strong, sturdy workers. Soon his fortress would be complete. And everything that the Book of Heresy had promised him would come true!
Don’t forget unexpected
dangers in times of peace.
– FROM THE OLD SCRIPTURE
9 DANGER
Slime-beak flew toward the camps of the cardinals and the blue jays, feeling quite puffed up and mighty. He, captain of Fortress Glooming, was leading a major attack. He followed the directions Shadow had given him and confidently led his band of fifty or so crows and ravens. According to Shadow, he should head for the Appleby Hills, the high spot at the center between the camps of the red and the blue. Slime-beak was enjoying himself greatly when he caught a glimpse of the hills in the distance and slowed his flight. On one of the hills were a tent, a stage, and a blur of birds fluttering about.
“Ho, soldier, those are cardinals and blue jays over there?” Slime-beak jabbed a raven with a claw.
“Aye, Captain, sir! Looks like they’re having a party of some sort, sir!”
“Hmm…But how and why? Shadow assured me they were hopping mad with one another.” An idea popped into the captain’s head. “The plan has to change. Let’s really surprise them. Spread out over by the woodlands, east and north. Let’s not fail Lord Turnatt!” The shadowlike birds obeyed.
During the feast Parrale and some other birds had gone to fetch the glossy black piano from the hot-air balloon’s basket. Though it was a miniature piano that was made especially for birds, it was still quite heavy. Many helped to move it. Tugging and pushing and pulling, they dragged it out. Finally, after great effort, the piano was in its proper place.
Parrale, sweating and huffing, said with a smile, “Yes, this is the moment everybird has been expecting: song and dance!” The cardinals and the blue jays in the crowd swallowed their last beakfuls. They cheered with cries of approval. “You choose the song, the dance, the singer, and the dancers,” Parrale announced.
With a nod Kastin and Mayflower flew with a single flap of their wings to their positions on the piano, Kastin on the high keys, Mayflower on the low. They waited.
In the crowd Brontë nudged Cody. “Come on, Cody! Go up and sing! You have the best voice for miles around!” This attracted the attention of the birds nearby, who supported Brontë.
“Listen to your friend!”
“Don’t be shy!”
“Let’s not delay the program!”
Cody grumbled good-naturedly. “As long as I can get rid of all those chatterers. If I go off tune, it won’t be my fault.”
As Cody made his way up to the stage, Flame-back came out of the audience and patted the blue jay’s shoulder.
“I’ve missed your cheery little tunes, Cody. Sing for the Bluewingles. And for us.” Then the cardinal leader slipped back into the crowd, vanishing behind other birds.
“We’ve got a singer!” called Lorpil. Then he turned his attention to Cody. “Just fly up to the lid of the piano, eh?”
Cody hopped to the piano lid and surveyed the crowd below. Many were watching, and most were silent.
“Shhhhhh!”
Kastin perched on a piano key. “Choose a song, Cody.”
“How about ‘Stone-Run and All’?”
“Good choice.”
Three cardinals flew up along with Aska and two other blue jays.
“Can we dance?” Aska questioned. “It’s our favorite song.”
Mayflower nodded.
The six dancers took their positions: three red birds on one side, three blue on the other.
“Ready? Sing on the high C, after we play the introduction.”
Kastin and Mayflower started to fly about, playing notes with their claws. The melody sounded like water, smooth and rippling.
Mayflower nodded to Cody when the last few notes rang. The blue jay took a huge breath and puffed out his chest, and the high C trembled in the air.
In the valley, there shines the sun,
On the bright forest of Stone-Run,
The rippling Peridot River,
And the Silver Creek.
This is the wonderful place that everybird seeks.
I am one…of Stone-Run,
Of the Bluewingle tribe, of the Sunrise.
We are one…of Stone-Run,
United forever.
Cody sang the first verse with a voice so touching, rich, and powerful that some birds in the audience cried.
The dancers each wore a silky scarf with the traditional Stone-Run mark-a pine tree with three birds singing in it. Graceful both in the air and on the ground, they flew in patterns, swirled and dipped their wings rhythmically, or swayed their heads to the music.
The pianists, Kastin and Mayflower, quickened their pace and played a passage in which there was no singing. If a bird listened carefully, he might hear in the music the spattering of rain or the rippling and gurgling of streams, or he might “see” the sun slowly rising on a Stone-Run morning.
The audience was so drawn into the dance and the song that they didn’t pay attention to anything else. In the surroundings Slime-beak and the soldiers prepared to attack.
Surreptitious tactics are
always the best way out.
– FROM THE BOOK OF HERESY
10 SURPRISE ATTACK
Slime-beak surveyed the landscape where the cardinals and the blue jays were watching some kind of performance. He couldn’t help feeling a little interested in the show. But a sudden vision of Lord Turnatt’s angry face reminded him of his job. He glanced at the red and the blue, muttering calculations.