"We don't know. We want to go south to the jungle, but we're not familiar with these stars of yours."
"You come from a place with different stars?" Shade asked.
"That's right. Brighter, and more numerous than these/'
Shade turned to Marina, incredulous. No one had ever told him about a jungle world, where the bats ate meat, and the sky contained a different set of stars. Did Frieda or Zephyr even know about such a place?
"Is it always so cold here?" Throbb asked with a shudder.
"Just in winter."
"Winter," said Throbb, as if pronouncing a new word.
Shade was surprised. Maybe where they came from, they didn't have winter. He began to feel useful.
"We're migrating," he explained. "Every winter we go south to find a warmer place to hibernate."
"Hibernate?" said Goth.
"A long sleep."
"How long?"
"Months." He was glad that someone shared his amazement at the idea of hibernation. "That's all we do, sleep and sleep until it gets warmer."
"Well, how unusual," said Goth with a laugh. "Bats that sleep for months on end. What strange customs you have in the north." He looked up at the sky. "But you can read these stars, can you?"
"We're going south too," Shade said, and then added impulsively, "come with us. We're trying to catch up with my colony. I'm sure Frieda could tell you how to get back to the jungle."
Goth turned to him and smiled gratefully.
"That's very generous of you."
"I don't like them," Marina said. She and Shade were alone, hunting the riverbank for insects.
Shade caught a snout beetle and cracked the shell. "Well, I feel a lot safer traveling with them."
SlLVERWING 117
There was a strangled squeal from the forest floor, and they both saw Goth fly out of the trees with a rat thrashing in his jaws.
"They're eating half the forest/' Marina said. "It doesn't bother you they're meat-eaters?"
"They're from the jungle," he said impatiently. "Everything's different there. Probably why they're so big," he mumbled. It made sense, all that heavy meat. He wondered, if he were to ... he grimaced, remembering the pungent smell of owl. "What does it matter what they eat? We eat insects, they eat other animals. You expect me to be sad about that owl? This is the second owl that's wanted to eat me, and they were quite happy about it, and I've heard stories about how owls eat you, pulling out your insides while you're still alive."
"Well, just remember, it's your two friends who got the skies closed down. And every time they kill something, a pigeon or an owl or a rat, the birds and beasts are going to want revenge. And that's bad news for us, and any other bat out there."
He knew she was right, and it made him angry. He thought of the rat Goth had just killed. He hoped Goth had been careful, picked a straggler.
"Look, the owls started it, not us. They can't just close down the night skies."
"I just don't like them," Marina said again. "I don't trust them."
"Remember what Zephyr said about meeting an unexpected ally?"
"You think that's Goth?" She rustled her wings. "He also said that stuff about beware of metal under wings. Maybe that means Goth."
"You've got metal under your wings too."
"I'd thought of that already, believe me."
"You don't like what they said about the bands, do you?"
"Do you?" she demanded.
n 8 Kenneth Oppel
"No. But
"What?"
"Doesn't mean it's not true."
"They didn't imprison me. They didn't put me in a room and jab me with darts and study me. I just can't believe Humans are as bad as they say."
"Zephyr did say they wanted something from us . . ."
"But also that there was something they wanted to give us," Marina insisted.
"I don't know." His head was beginning to ache.
"What about your elder, Frieda? What about Zephyr? And your own father? You think they were all wrong?"
"I don't—I just don't know!"
"So you're saying my colony was right all along. Humans are our enemies—"
"I didn't say that, Marina—"
"And here I thought maybe the band meant something." She tapped it sharply against his head. "But all it means is I'm a prisoner. That's it. No secret anymore. I guess I don't need to come any farther, do I?"
An awkward silence fell between them.
"I want to go back," she said quietly.
"What?"
"I want to go back."
"To the island?"
"To the city. I want to find this fake jungle."
"Are you crazy? What about the pigeons? The owls? It's not safe. And even if you did find this place, how do you know ..." he sighed. "How do you know they won't hurt you."
"How do you know your father's not there?"
Shade felt his breath knocked out of him. He stared at Marina. It hadn't even occurred to him. But no. He shook his head in relief. "Zephyr said he was far away. Remember?"
Marina sighed. "Let's leave Goth and Throbb ..."
"We need them," he said bluntly. "We weren't two
SlLVERWING II9
hours out of the city when we got hit by that owl. You think we can make it on our own?'' Marina was silent.
"I want to know what it all means too." He ignored her doubtful snort. "I really do. But let's just catch up with my colony, and then we can talk to Frieda and the other banded bats and maybe we'll get more answers." "You're pretty impressed by these two, aren't you?" She'd caught him by surprise. "Well ..." "Big like you always wanted to be?" There was a taunting hook to her voice.
"Maybe," he said, face burning. "So what?" "I wish you hadn't asked them to join us." "Listen," he said. "We're safe with them. And what if there is a war? What if that's what Nocturna meant? And even my father said we had to wait for something before we'd be free. Maybe this is it." "What d'you mean?"
"Goth and Throbb. There're others like them in the jungle, right? Maybe we can convince them to join us. Make a big army." His heart whirred furiously with excitement. "You saw the way Goth killed the owl. It was easy for him. I mean just look at them, they're natural warriors. If we had their help, we could fight them once and for all—all the pigeons and the owls and anyone else. Everyone who wanted to keep us banished. And I know we could beat them."
Dark Allies
Goth ripped another hunk from his squirrel and chewed thoughtfully. He looked up at the sky. This was the second night he'd spent with Shade and Marina, and he was beginning to recognize a few of these stars now. It wouldn't be long before he could navigate by himself, and then he could make a quick meal of these two little bats.
Still, they were useful in other ways. He didn't understand the trees here, some with spindly leafless branches, others with sharp prickly needles. It was Marina who'd found a place for them to roost last night, in a deserted woodpecker's hole. And Shade had shown him how to drink from the stream, by breaking through the frozen water. He called it ice. Ice. Never had he seen such a horrific thing. It was painful to touch, the cold seeping into him with a shock. He ruffled his wings and closed them tighter around his body. But the wind cut through anyway. The sooner he was free of this northern wasteland the better.
Throbb landed beside him with a sparrow in his jaws.
"I want bat," he whined.
"Not yet," Goth growled. "Wait. You'll get bat soon enough. Have some self-discipline, and remember," he added ominously, looking Throbb right in the eye, "I like bat too."
SlLVERWING 121
Throbb shuffled back a few inches and ate his sparrow sullenly. "Who's this Nocturna they keep talking about?"
Goth used a claw to pick out some meat between his teeth. "Some pathetic little religion, I suppose." Shade had told him all about it: the battle between birds and beasts, the banishment, and this wonderful Promise. It was all ridiculous, but he said nothing, preferring to keep Z
otz, the one true bat god, secret for the time being.
"Even if Nocturna does exist," he said derisively, "she can't be very powerful—just look at the puny creatures she rules over."
Throbb hacked out a laugh, spitting up some gristle and bones at the same time.
They really were pitiful creatures, Goth thought. They couldn't even defend themselves against pigeons. The owls, he'd admit, were somewhat more formidable— fighting more than two at a time would be a challenge. Still, these bats lived in total fear of them, afraid to show their faces during the day, and now even at night, according to Shade.
Goth smiled, pleased. It seemed he'd started a war.
And they needed him, these two bats. Shade wanted him to meet the leaders of his colony. Of course Goth had willingly agreed, knowing he'd be long gone by then. Once he could fly south alone, he certainly wouldn't need the help of some mangy Silverwing elder.
Unless . . .
The thought slid into his head like a snake's tongue. Unless Zotz meant for him to meet the Silverwing colony. Unless there was a design behind his capture by Humans in the jungle. It made sense. Why would Zotz have let the Humans bring him north, if not for a purpose?
The dream. Hundreds upon hundreds of Silverwings flying around him in the jungle. And how did they get there? They got there, a voice inside his head told him, because you brought them there.
122 Kenneth Oppel
"In the jungle," Goth was saying, "it's never cold. The heat hangs in the air like rain. The landscape is lush, not like this rocky forest below us, but bright with flowers and plants and fruits, the likes of which you've never seen. And the insects there are so succulent—three or four would be enough to feed you for an entire night."
Shade listened, rapt, as they flew through the cold sky. It was not the beetles Goth described, but the warmth that made his mouth water. Waking this evening, he'd been startled to find a faint dusting of frost on his outer wing tips, and he'd beaten it off anxiously.
This was the third night they'd spent with Goth and Throbb, and they were still navigating by the cathedral star. He wondered how long it would be before they caught up with the other Silver wings. The whole world was glazed with frost, the naked tree branches glinting silver. The sound of insects had dulled over the past nights, and hunting was becoming more difficult. Fewer living things came out at night now. From time to time he'd spotted huge flocks of birds in the distance, making their own migration south. So far, though, there'd been no sign of any other bat colonies, and this worried him.
"There's a sheltered ledge over there," Marina said, pointing to a rocky hillside. "We should probably find a roost, and then we'll have about an hour to feed."
Shade shivered and looked to the east. He hated stopping, always felt like he was losing time. But at least the sun meant it would be a little warmer soon. His ears ached, and his feet felt numb.
"How many bats are there in your colony?" he asked Goth as they circled the ledge, checking for roosts.
"Millions."
Millions. It was hard enough to imagine two giant bats, much less millions.
"There's probably not much in the sky you're afraid of," Shade said enviously.
"Nothing," Goth told him. "The vulture and hawk are
SlLVERWING 123
the only birds of any strength, but they don't dare attack us."
Shade wondered what it would be like not to be afraid. He'd never know: He was a runt. Practically everything in the sky was bigger than him. But if he could convince Goth and Throbb to join them . . . maybe that would count for something.
He'd agonized over how to ask them, and given up the whole idea more than once. What did he know? Who was he to ask these giant bats to join their fight? Maybe he should leave it all to Frieda or the other elders.
Marina found a tunnel in the stone face, big enough for Goth and Throbb to fit through. Inside, it was dry and protected from the wind, and small enough so their body heat would quickly warm it up. Shade scanned the floor intently.
"What're you doing?" Goth asked.
"Checking for owl pellets. To make sure they haven't been nesting here." Marina had taught him how to do it. Owls swallowed their prey whole; they didn't chew, and their pellets contained all the bones and teeth of whatever they'd eaten. He was afraid one night he'd find a part of a bat's wing-fingers or jawbone. This place was clean, however.
"You live in constant fear of them, don't you," Goth said.
"We're too small to fight them."
"But if five of you attacked one ..."
Shade had never thought of that. "Maybe," he said.
"We can't allow our bat brothers and sisters to be treated this way," Goth said fiercely, looking at Shade, and at first Shade thought Goth was angry with him, thinking him a coward. He looked at the floor.
"Come with us to the jungle," Goth said, "you and all your colony, and I'll call upon my family for help."
"You will?" It was more than Shade could have hoped for.
"We can muster an army, and return to the north to fight the owls."
"You'll really fight with us?"
"It would be a great honor to help you return to the light of day, just like Nocturna promised."
"All without the Humans' help?" Marina asked.
Shade looked at her in surprise. She'd gone almost the whole night without saying a word. He knew she was angry, at Goth, and at him. She was staring at Goth belligerently.
"I wouldn't count on any help from Humans," Goth snorted. "They're more interested in imprisoning us than setting us free."
Shade felt Marina staring hard at him, but he couldn't meet her gaze. The Humans ... he just didn't know what to think about them now. They seemed unreliable. Marina thought they were good; Goth and Throbb thought they were evil. As for the bands, there were ones like Frieda's, and others that burned bats alive. How could they count on Humans?
"Maybe Goth's right," he said, still avoiding Marina's eyes. "Maybe the Humans aren't going to help us."
"What do you know?" she snapped bitterly. "You aren't even banded."
Shade looked at her, stung.
"Maybe I'm not, but—"
"No. You don't know what it was like. How it felt. It was special, I don't care what any of you say. It means something." She paused. "And your father thought so too, Shade."
He was aware of Goth, watching him intently.
"I know what my father thought," he said coldly. "Maybe he was wrong."
"So you're just going to give up on him? Go off to the jungle without looking for him?"
"Of course I'll look for him—"
"So it's just me you're giving up on."
SlLVERWING 125
Before he could even fumble for words, she flew out from the stone hollow into the night.
"Marina!" he shouted, and was about to dart after her, but Goth spread one of his massive wings.
"Don't worry. Shell be back. Let her calm down."
"I didn't want to hurt her feelings."
"You didn't. She's put too much hope on these bands. Now she feels angry and foolish. She'll get over it."
"Yeah," said Shade, looking after her. He should have felt deliriously happy, knowing that Goth and Throbb were going to help him form an army. But he felt a deadweight of disappointment in his stomach.
"We know the stars well enough by now," Throbb said. "What use are the bats? Let's eat them."
"Keep your voice down," Goth hissed, looking across the treetops to where Shade foraged alone for insects. He turned back to Throbb. "You'll do as I say, when I say. Without me you'd still be back in that prison, eating those watery little mice. Remember that."
He hadn't told Throbb about his plan, and he wouldn't. Everything had become so clear to him, once he'd managed to unlock the dream's meaning.
He would travel with Shade and Marina until they met the Silverwings. Then, he would convince them to come to the jungle, thinking they would raise an army.
B
ut once they reached his homeland, all the Silverwings would become slaves to his family. Year after year they would breed, creating an endless supply of living bat flesh for them to devour.
They would become eternal sacrificial offerings to Zotz—who had sent his servant Goth to the north to prove himself, and bring the Silverwings to the jungle.
Shade hadn't suspected his purpose; it had been so easy. The Silverwing was spirited, yes, and intelligent, but he was also desperate for glory—as if he could ever have it, the scrawny little thing.
But Marina ... he was more worried about her: She doubted them, he could tell. It seemed like Shade was safely on his side now, but he wondered how loyal he would be to his Brightwing companion. He couldn't afford to lose Shade, and if she should sway him . . .
He turned to Throbb.
"You want bat so badly? Find the Brightwing and kill her."
"Marina!"
Shade was getting worried now. He'd fed alone for half an hour, and still she hadn't come back. She shouldn't be off alone, not now of all times. There might be owl sentries nearby, a clutch of crows . . .
He flew past the stone ledge where they'd found a roost. He hadn't seen Goth or Throbb either. Panic fluttered through him. Had a squadron of owls struck without him knowing? Taken all of them?
He wanted to shout out, but knew that would only mark him if there were owls nearby. He began a wide circle around the roost, staying high enough above the trees, but peering down into them with his echo vision. He finished his first circle and started again, wider.
In the branches of an oak he spotted Throbb, hunched over, his back to him. With relief he flew down closer and could hear the raw, sticky sounds of feeding, of things being wrenched and chewed. Splayed to one side of Throbb's shoulders and head, he could make out the outline of a lifeless wing.
His usual revulsion suddenly gave way to horror. His echo vision flared at the edges, and he was seized with a terrible weakness, afraid he might faint.
There were no feathers on that wing.
It was fringed with bright fur, leathery, with the ridges of long fingers beneath the surface.
Throbb was eating a Brightwing bat.
Escape