them.
Shade didn’t know how to reply. Which bats? Was he talking about Silverwings?
“I don’t know what you mean—”
The pigeon guard pecked him sharply with his beak, and Shade cried out.
“What were you doing around our roost?”
“We’re migrating,” Marina said. “We’re trying to find a landmark to help us on our way south. We thought this was the right tower but—”
“Who killed my two guards earlier tonight?”
Bats killing pigeons? Shade swallowed. They couldn’t … but three-foot wingspans? It was a mistake. No bat was that big.
“We don’t know.”
“Where are they roosting?”
“We don’t—”
“How many are there?”
Shade looked at Marina. He knew it was pointless to talk now; they weren’t listening, and he felt afraid. Afraid of their sparkling beaks, the anger that seemed to be welling up inside the turret like a thunderhead.
A pigeon guard fluttered down to the captain.
“Sir, the ambassador has arrived.”
“Excellent.” He turned back to Shade and Marina. “I think you’ll find the ambassador is less patient than me.”
High in the turret, a dark shape loomed in one of the windows, and Shade saw the outline of a she-owl. Behind her, two other guard owls circled outside.
“Things just got much worse,” he muttered to Marina.
He watched as the owl ambassador entered the pigeon roost slowly, almost disdainfully, her head swiveling slowly from side to side. Her nose twitched. A hush fell over the roost, and the captain flew up to greet her.
“Ambassador, welcome. Thank you for coming on such short—”
“You’ve caught the killers?” came the low terrifying voice.
“No, Ambassador, they’re too small, but—”
“Where are they?”
The owl dropped to a perch close to the floor. Her flat eyes took in Shade and Marina. Shade trembled.
“They’re spies,” growled the she-owl.
“No!” Shade protested.
“They deny it!” cried the captain angrily, and the other birds cracked their wings in outrage, their growls deepening.
“Then why were you caught directly outside the pigeons’ roost?” the ambassador asked.
“We were lost!”
“You know nothing of the bats who killed the two pigeons?”
“No,” Shade insisted.
“They were probably gathering information for another attack,” the owl told the captain. “I suggest you ready your soldiers.”
“Yes, Ambassador.”
“Have they told you the location of the others?”
“No.”
“They’re spies” growled the she-owl.
“I see.”
The owl turned her gaze back on Shade.
“Silverwing,” said the owl thoughtfully. “Where are you from?”
Shade said nothing.
“Answer!” shouted the captain.
“The northern forests.”
“Yes, I thought so. One of their bats broke the law and looked at the sun.”
Muttered outrage swept through the turret.
“We burned their roost to the ground several nights ago. I suspect the same bats are responsible for this latest atrocity, Captain. Some pathetic act of revenge, perhaps.”
“We will crush them!” said the captain.
“Not if there’s more like the others I saw,” muttered the soldier pigeon with the gash in his shoulder. And he laughed, a quick strangled laugh.
“That’s enough, Private!” snapped the captain.
“I’m not going back out there to fight ‘em, Captain … I’m not … they’ve got claws, sir, and teeth like—”
“Silence!”
“It’s the gargoyles, that’s what they is, them gargoyles on the cathedral come to life … I know it …”
“Guards, take him away!” The captain turned apologetically to the owl. “Private Saunders has a tendency to exaggerate.”
“No bat can be a match for birds,” said the owl calmly. “I bring an order from the king of the Northern Realms,” the owl announced. “Hear the king through me. The skies are now closed. This murder of birds by bats is an act of war, and we will respond in kind. The law is broken.”
The owl turned her baleful eyes on
Shade didn’t know how to reply. Which bats? Was he talking about Silverwings?
“I don’t know what you mean—”
The pigeon guard pecked him sharply with his beak, and Shade cried out.
“What were you doing around our roost?”
“We’re migrating,” Marina said. “We’re trying to find a landmark to help us on our way south. We thought this was the right tower but—”
“Who killed my two guards earlier tonight?”
Bats killing pigeons? Shade swallowed. They couldn’t … but three-foot wingspans? It was a mistake. No bat was that big.
“We don’t know.”
“Where are they roosting?”
“We don’t—”
“How many are there?”
Shade looked at Marina. He knew it was pointless to talk now; they weren’t listening, and he felt afraid. Afraid of their sparkling beaks, the anger that seemed to be welling up inside the turret like a thunderhead.
A pigeon guard fluttered down to the captain.
“Sir, the ambassador has arrived.”
“Excellent.” He turned back to Shade and Marina. “I think you’ll find the ambassador is less patient than me.”
High in the turret, a dark shape loomed in one of the windows, and Shade saw the outline of a she-owl. Behind her, two other guard owls circled outside.
“Things just got much worse,” he muttered to Marina.
He watched as the owl ambassador entered the pigeon roost slowly, almost disdainfully, her head swiveling slowly from side to side. Her nose twitched. A hush fell over the roost, and the captain flew up to greet her.
“Ambassador, welcome. Thank you for coming on such short—”
“You’ve caught the killers?” came the low terrifying voice.
“No, Ambassador, they’re too small, but—”
“Where are they?”
The owl dropped to a perch close to the floor. Her flat eyes took in Shade and Marina. Shade trembled.
“They’re spies,” growled the she-owl.
“No!” Shade protested.
“They deny it!” cried the captain angrily, and the other birds cracked their wings in outrage, their growls deepening.
“Then why were you caught directly outside the pigeons’ roost?” the ambassador asked.
“We were lost!”
“You know nothing of the bats who killed the two pigeons?”
“No,” Shade insisted.
“They were probably gathering information for another attack,” the owl told the captain. “I suggest you ready your soldiers.”
“Yes, Ambassador.”
“Have they told you the location of the others?”
“No.”
“They’re spies” growled the she-owl.
“I see.”
The owl turned her gaze back on Shade.
“Silverwing,” said the owl thoughtfully. “Where are you from?”
Shade said nothing.
“Answer!” shouted the captain.
“The northern forests.”
“Yes, I thought so. One of their bats broke the law and looked at the sun.”
Muttered outrage swept through the turret.
“We burned their roost to the ground several nights ago. I suspect the same bats are responsible for this latest atrocity, Captain. Some pathetic act of revenge, perhaps.”
“We will crush them!” said the captain.
“Not if there’s more like the others I saw,” muttered the soldier pigeon with the gash in his shoulder. And he laughed, a quick strangled laugh.
“That’s enough, Private!” snapped the captain.
“I’m not going back out there to fight ‘em, Captain … I’m not … they’ve got claws, sir, and teeth like—”
“Silence!”
“It’s the gargoyles, that’s what they is, them gargoyles on the cathedral come to life … I know it …”
“Guards, take him away!” The captain turned apologetically to the owl. “Private Saunders has a tendency to exaggerate.”
“No bat can be a match for birds,” said the owl calmly. “I bring an order from the king of the Northern Realms,” the owl announced. “Hear the king through me. The skies are now closed. This murder of birds by bats is an act of war, and we will respond in kind. The law is broken.”
The owl turned her baleful eyes on
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