Chapter 21

Thunderbird stood up to pace as he spoke. "These lands have been my hunting grounds for as long as I can remember. All that time, I was alone, with no peers, no one to share my experiences with. I would find myself in a body, claim it, and live in it until the cycle ended.”

Cerrunos nodded. “The Uskaraji were only finally broken by the end of the Cycle. Humans, Changelings and Immortals had been wiped out in the Americas by then. And the few of us who survived had our hands full. I had no idea that either the Stormchild or the Thunderbird were still alive until later. I am sorry, old friend.”

The eagle nodded. “You protected your own, Eldest, as I would have.” He continued his tale. “In the early times, I had the form of a full eagle, though larger, and they were my hosts. I would dominate them, but only because they were not intelligent on their own. I rode the winds alone, hunted for my food, and cared for myself. After a while – the end of a Cycle, I would understand later – I would weaken, my control of the skies would wane, and one day, I would go to sleep and dream for a time. Eventually I would awaken in a new body, young and strong, my powers would return, and it would all happen again.”

“Very early in one of my incarnations, within the first month, I had my first encounter with humans. They had entered my lands while I slept, and I had no way of knowing for how long. They sparked my curiosity. For years, I watched them from a distance, careful to stay hidden. I spied several that were a cross between them and another animal, those you call changelings. I quickly learned that they were not prey, as they grouped together to hunt other animals. But these creatures didn't just hunt for food. They harvested plants as well, and from animals they took not just the meat, but the skin and bones and sinew as well, using everything, -making- things from bone and stone and wood, wrapping themselves in the fur they didn't grow themselves for warmth in the unforgiving cold of the long winters, for in that Cycle the Ice was far advanced. I saw them work and struggle together to live off the land. Cooperation, social structure... such concepts were alien to me, aside from my observation of wolf-packs. Up until then, my lives were spent in solitude, relying only on myself.

“Then I came across a village being menaced by a snakelike creature, the likes of which I had never seen, preying upon them night after night. The day after one of its attacks, I attempted to track the creature, but only found one of its victims. It had left the human to rot in the sun. I was no stranger to hunting other animals to survive, but I realized this was something else. This was not about survival, or even a territorial dispute. It was killing for -sport-... because it was stronger than them. I saw the creature as an abomination.

“I did something I had never done in all the lifetimes I could remember: I made a choice to help someone else. I decided to kill this monster.” He shrugged. “It was not entirely altruistic. I told myself it wasn't just to protect the new creatures that had so intrigued me, but that the snake-thing might decide to attack me if I did not deal with it. But my first impulse had been to stop it not for my own safety but for theirs.”

“I planned to attack it the next night it came for one of them. As expected, it came again for another of the humans. While it was distracted, I made my move. Calling on my power over the skies, I attacked the creature with lightning as I advanced on it at top speed. With it stunned, I pounced on it and attacked with my beak and talons. Looking back on it, I was reckless... foolish. I had never fought such a creature before, and was ill-prepared for how it would react. I ended up trading blows several times. The beast was slain, but at great cost. My chest was burning and bleeding heavily, and I couldn't stand on my left ankle. I saw the humans gathering nearby and panicked, trying to flee. But I did not have the strength to even fly, and limped only a short distance before collapsing. The world went dark as they approached.

“When I awoke, I was surprised to find I had not reincarnated, and while the pain in my chest and ankle was still present, the bleeding had stopped. I was surrounded by the humans. But among them, I saw a changeling in the form of a coyote who seemed to be the leader of this group, or at least someone of importance. I was terrified, but I could hardly even move, much less run away. I feared they were going to kill me, but then I wondered why they hadn't already. The coyote placed his hand over my chest, and spoke something. I saw a glow spread from his hand over my body, and all the pain I felt just melted away. A few minutes later, he pulled his hand back. My wounds were nearly completely healed. I rose to my feet, and we just... stared at each other what felt like an eternity, each of us unsure what to do. One of them broke the impasse, and, as I later learned, began thanking me. Another alien concept: gratitude. Again, my curiosity got the better of me, and I tried to interact with them.” 

Stardancer looked at the Eldest. “Was that Coyote?”

Cerrunos shook his head. “His other grandfather, actually. He passed the story down, and that was how I eventually found out that Thunderbird had survived after all.”

“I wanted to understand how they communicated such complex ideas to each other, and were able to organize themselves into groups. I spent weeks, then months, trying to comprehend. The results were a mix of comical, confusing, and awkward, with the occasional moment of exhilaration at a breakthrough. All the while, I was treated as a guest of the village. I joined hunting parties, as well as patrolling the surrounding lands. However, I simply did not have the ability to speak their tongue. The best I could manage was simple gesturing, body language, scratching on the ground, and the occasional screech. I learned some of their words, but the eagle's body I wore using simply couldn't make the sounds.”

“As the seasons changed, I kept a close watch on the surrounding lands in case any other creatures such as that abomination turned up. Other villages had been notified that if such a creature appeared, there was another that could fight it. I was certain I could win decisively next time. Soon enough, another village came under siege from another one of those monsters, and I tasked myself with destroying it. We worked together to kill it, suffering far fewer losses this time.

“I then realized that there could be even more things like that out there. I resolved to prepare myself for the day would I would have to face them alone. I began training with my powers, finding their limits, and extending them where I could. I returned to the coyote healer, and was able to learn and use his healing spells; I had the mage spark as well, of course, but I had not been aware of it. And I used that magic to modify my form so that I could finally speak with them properly. Over the years, I began a regular patrol of the lands, always on the lookout for anything unusual or potentially threatening, investigating or eliminating it where necessary. I met countless other empowered individuals, some friendly, some not. I learned their languages and made contacts across my domain, made my patrols more efficient and frequent. I became their protector, and they became my friends, and occasionally my mates. They gave me the name I still proudly bear.”

“The next Cycle, I was surprised to find that I did not awake in the body of an eagle, but in a body like this one, sharing it with the person who had grown up in it. Eventually we learned to cooperate. After a time we became as one, and Dances Among Clouds became the new Thunderbird. It was in that Cycle that I met Cerrunos and learned of the existence of other Immortals. He told me of Stormchild, one like myself but always a female and furred Changeling where I was always male and feathered. I met her later in that Cycle, and that was when we decided that we were in some fashion siblings, avatars of different aspects of the world itself.”

Stormchild chuckled. “Like I said, it was complicated. If I didn't know better, I'd think that the Eldest was setting us up on a blind date, but if he knew us before what happened with the necromancers, he would have known that wasn't going to happen.”

He shook his head at that. “No, not a date in the modern sense. But you had always been friends before, and he had fallen while protecting you in the final defense of Lys. I had hoped that the meeting might trigger a restoration of your memories, but...”

Thunderbird shook his head. “It did not work. Our older memories are gone forever, I fear. Not that the memories of the battle against the Uskaraji were something worth keeping, were they?”

The Eldest sighed. “Not the horrors, no. But there are now only the five of us who still remember those who fell in the defense of life. -Those- memories are worth keeping.”

MacDowell spoke up at that. “Then tell us, Eldest. It seems that Thunderbird and I have more in common than I feared. Tell us how he fell, and let us help you remember those who deserve to be remembered.”

“Someday. But not here, not in the Dreamtime.”

Dreamweaver snorted. “Damn straight, not here. Don' wan' no zombies manifestin' when he remembers 'em. We all done here? T'underbird and de Cap'n willin' to talk out their differences widout tryin' to throw lightnin' around?”

The two eagles stared at each other across the table. Thunderbird eventually nodded. “I will not fight with other Immortals unless we are in agreement. And I agree, there is much I must learn about this Cycle.”

The rest looked at MacDowell's avatar. He nodded as well, obviously still wary but willing to consider the arrangement. “Agreed. And if you wish to talk, or learn, I will not block you from my mind. We are both guardians after all. There is no reason to fight each other if we can cooperate on that.”

Dreamweaver nodded. “Dat's good, den. Not gonna push anyone out of de Dreamin' dis time, but everyone gwine remember dis Dream when you do wake up. Shadow an' I is goin' back east in de mornin' --”

“Evening. I do -not- fly during daylight if I can help it.”

“All right, de evenin', den. Anyone else who wants can come along wit' us. Cap'n, T'underbird, you boys are welcome to pay me a visit if'n you need anudder session like dis one. But I 'spects de worst is over, now.”

MacDowell nodded. “It should be. Thank you.”

The mouse banged her gavel again. “Den I declare dis meetin' over.” She grinned. “We now returns you to your regularly scheduled dreams.”

She opened her eyes and nodded to herself with satisfaction before getting up and walking over to her bathroom mirror. “Past t'ree in de mornin' here. She's t'ree hours ahead. Close enough.” She put the call through, and was soon rewarded by the sight of a disheveled wolf.

“Diviner here.” Her ears perked up as she realized who was calling. “Dreamweaver! How did it go?”

“Mostly sorted out. Learned a few things from de Eldest, too. We need to get together, an' have him tell us de story of de Battle of Lys. But it needs daylight, dat tale. Turns out Creya was a -nice- guy compared to de rest of dat lot...”

* * * *

Maximilian watched the F-22 ghost down in the pre-dawn darkness of central Germany and come to rest precisely in its assigned spot. “Not bad. She seems to be competent with the little planes, at least.” He watched as the ground crew clustered around the jet and opened the canopy, then harrumphed as the pilot spread her own wings to flit down from the cockpit rather than use the ladder. “I've never met a bat-changeling before, Robbie.”

Gilbert chuckled. “Well, makes sense that they gave her a height waiver if she's a natural flyer. Most Changeling pilots I've met have been birds, though.” His voice went quiet as he continued. “But this matches the rumors I've heard. I think she -is- that Shadow. According to what Jeff told me, she can hide an entire plane from radar, lidar, or infrared, and can perform impossible maneuvers. Personal pilot to the head of NSA, and on the short list for Air Force One in spite of not being experienced on the heavies. Apparently what she can do is more important.”

“I think we're going to find out. Let's go meet her.”

The bat emerged from the showers ten minutes after she'd landed, still damp and wearing a clean uniform instead of her flight suit. Maximilian and Gilbert were waiting to greet her. “Captain Sterling?” He smiled at her acknowledgment and extended his hand. “Welcome to Rammstein. I'm Lieutenant Colonel Maximilian, and this is my usual co-pilot, Major Gilbert.”

The bat accepted his handshake. The abbreviated two fingers and thumb at her mid-wing joint were skinny to the point of being skeletal, but surprisingly strong. He had the distinct impression that while he might be able to lift her with one hand, she might well be able to win a contest of grips. “Colonel, Major. I assume you've been given the mission brief already?” Her voice was very high pitched, with an unusual trilling tone to it.

“We have. For what it's worth, I'm hoping that it isn't as suicidal as it looks.”

She smiled, showing fangs in a blunt muzzle. “That's why I'm along, and why I have to displace your co-pilot. Sorry about that, Major.”

“Don't apologize to me, ma'am. I'm going to push the flight engineer out of -his- slot. I've heard rumors about you, and I don't want to miss this. I'm going to assume that whatever it is you do, you have to be in command of the aircraft to do it?”

“Got it in one, Major. I've been experimenting with it the last couple days, as well as getting a refresher in the C-130. I hadn't flown as anything but pilot or copilot since the Event, so we hadn't realized it before. I can conceal a Hercules from detection, but I have to have my claws on the controls to do it. Not sure about bigger aircraft yet, but after this is over they're going to try me out on one of the Presidential birds.”

Maximilian looked relieved at that admission. “So we actually -can- get through the Syrian air defense belt without being spotted, then?”

“As long as you let me fly the plane. I promise I'm not going to be trying any tricky maneuvers, and I'm not about to try flying her during the airdrop, but that should be safe enough since we'll be well away from the borders at that point – and we know that what's on the ground there is friendly.”

“Fair enough. In that case, let's go have some breakfast and you can meet the rest of my crew.”

* * * *

“I still don't know her name, John, so I'm going to have to brute-force the spell. But at least I've figured out what I'm going to link up with.”

“Oh? I thought she wasn't lighting any fires.”

“She's not. But the door frame is concrete. Near enough to stone, and when it's open, it's close enough to a trilithon to accept the spell. So now I just have to wait until the next time she wants to leave, and I can make the connection.”

---

She didn't really think of herself as Farrah very often any more. That name belonged to the days before the world had changed, and she and her daughters had been driven out of their home. They'd been harried for weeks that first time before she'd found a place for them to hide, and even then they had eventually been found again. Twice more they had found lairs and been driven out after a while. <This time will probably be no different. Even though there is food stored here, we still need water, and sooner or later the villagers will manage to follow me back, and then we will need to move again.> What was intended as a sigh came out as a soft hiss, and her eldest looked up from where she was reading in the fading evening light.

“Is something wrong, Mother?”

“Nothing new, Yasmina. This is a good lair, but I fear we will eventually have to leave it. Twice I have been seen by the locals, and at least once they attempted to track me. I am surprised they do not know of this place already. Surely they would be interested in the weapons and ammunition stored here.”

The younger snake shook her head. “I do not think so, Mother. You saw the sigils painted on the objects stored in the western room, just as I did. Did you not recognize them?”

“Only that they were warnings. You know that I never had the chance to go to school when I was a girl. That is why I wish you to teach your sisters how to read as you learned, no matter what the mullahs preach about it now.”

Yasmina nodded. “Those sigils are supposed to be easily recognized. They warn of radiation and nuclear material. The objects do not look much like bombs, but I suspect that they are. Atomic bombs, or at least the warheads for them. And such things would have been kept secret. Whoever put them here, I am sure that they did not tell anyone about it.”

Farrah turned to stare nervously in the direction of the nuclear vault. “Atomic bombs? We are sleeping next to such things?”

“They are not going to explode tonight, Mother, any more than they did last night. But perhaps we should leave before we are found this time. We do not want to lead anyone to such things, either. Especially not here, where the Islamic Council rules.”

Farrah nodded. “I will search for a new lair tonight as I hunt. A pity to leave this one so soon, but you are probably right.”

“At least we can take the food with us, and perhaps some of the other things. And perhaps we can find our way to lands where we will not be outcast. The mullahs denounced those people who were changed, but they also denounced the West and the Hindu, who treat those like us as equals. We are moving away from the Hindustan, but we may eventually reach the West. I think we should make the effort, try to flee either north to Turkey or southwest to Israel.”

Farrah sighed. “Perhaps. It seems as though Allah wills us to be vagabonds and outcasts forever, I fear. But for now, your sisters need fresh meat, so I will hunt. Watch over them while I am gone.”

Yasmina nodded. “Of course, Mother. I... ” She turned to stare at the door to the sleeping chamber. “That is strange. I suddenly feel that I should open that door.”

“You are worried about your sisters?”

She shook her head. “No. Merely that it is important that the door be open. How very odd...” She uncoiled herself and slithered over to it, studying it while considering her sudden urge. Eventually she shrugged, and reached for the latch. “Bism'allah. It cannot hurt, and we will have to do it sooner or later.”

Neither of them was expecting the result. The moment the doorway was fully open, the very air shimmered and rippled, and instead of the barracks-room where the three young snakes were sleeping, they found themselves staring at an apparition of a white-furred wolf-changeling, dressed in a Western skirt and blouse and standing in front of a well-padded armchair. “Thank you, Yasmina.” The wolf sketched a bow by way of a greeting, and seated herself with a canid smile. “My name is Janet Lowe, and I offer you asylum in America, or anywhere else you may wish to go.”

Farrah hissed and reared up, moving in front of her daughter and making a warding sign that she had learned from her grandmother. The image flickered and danced, and the wolf winced before making gestures of her own. The image restabilized, and she held up a hand. “Please! I mean you no harm. This is but a sending, a way to talk.”

The elder snake was not mollified. “How did you know my daughter's name!?”

The wolf sighed. “Because you spoke it, just now. I needed a name to complete the spell, along with something to anchor it, which the open door provided. A fire or a mirror or a still pool of water would have served as well for that, but the door was the first to be available.”

“You have been spying on us.”

“Only by chance. It is your lair that I was searching for, and I did not know at first that you were staying here. It was the bombs that I was concerned with.”

Yasmina moved back around her mother. “You knew of the bombs? How is this?”

“The short version? I have the gift of prophecy from the Event that changed the world, and I foresaw them being used. This was a future I wished to avoid, and so I searched for them, to make sure that those who would use them would not be able to find them after all.”

“But if you foresaw that they would be used, how is it that they might not be?”

Lowe chuckled. “That gets into the long and complicated version. I see shadows of what -may- be, not what -will- be. They can be changed, sometimes, and the farther into the future I see things, the easier it is to do so.”

Farrah made her warding sign again, and the image flickered out. “We shall have no dealings with sorcery, Yasmina. The Prophet, may peace be upon him, warned against such things.”

“Mother... you can't read. You don't know what the Prophet truly said. You are just repeating what the clerics tell you. They also denounced -us- for our new forms, so we are damned anyway if they are right. And I think you just used sorcery yourself.”

The wolf's image returned. “Please stop doing that, ma'am. It's quite unpleasant. And your daughter is correct. You are a sorceress yourself, though untrained. Otherwise you could not do what you just did.”

“What? No! I am no witch!”

“Then how else are you disrupting my sending? That takes power.”

“That is by faith in Allah, not sorcery.”

The wolf pressed the issue. “You cloak yourself in a guise of human form when you go among them. How else do you think you can go unnoticed as long as you do? You are not hiding from them – a -child- spotted you here at Al Suwar. But they see you as an ordinary woman until they see the tracks. That is not faith.”

“But... I...”

“Mother, she is right. You have the power, and so do I. My sisters will probably have it when they grow up, too.”

Farrah turned away, shaking her head in denial. “I don't -want- it. I only wanted to follow the will of Allah, like a good Muslim woman should.”

Lowe shook her head, her voice gentler now. “You did not seek it out. Since you have the power anyway, surely it is Allah's will that you have it, no?”

“But... Sorcery is against the will of Allah.”

“But you have it nonetheless. Do you truly trust the clerics? Yasmina -can- read the Q'ran, and she tells you they distort things. Would you truly trust them over your own flesh and blood?”

Farrah sighed. “I... No. Even if it costs me Paradise, I cannot.”

“Then let us take you to a place where you can be safe, and need not hide if you do not wish to. There are Muslims in America who will not care about your form, and if you do not wish to use the power that you have, you will not have to. If you wish to learn how to control it? I can take you to the Prince of the High Desert, or you may study with our own magicians. But in any event, the bombs must be removed. If they stay here, ISIL will find them and use them to destroy a city, and I will -not- allow that to happen.”

“You care only for taking the bombs, then? What of your promises to us?”

“If I cared only for the bombs, I would order soldiers sent to take them and shoot anyone who interferes. As I said, I found you when I searched for them – and now that I know you are there, I would prefer to help you.”

“You can give orders to soldiers?”

“Effectively, yes. I am an adviser to our President, and he has given me full authority to deal with the bombs. And I give -you- my word, here and now, that if you wish it, you will have our protection.”

Farrah hunkered down in her coils, trying to make up her mind. Yasmina looked at the wolf. “You said you are a prophetess. What will happen if she remains here?”

“ISIL is already planning to send troops since the locals are defying them. They will most likely find her and try to kill her.”

“But will they succeed?”

“I cannot yet say. They will not kill -you-, Yasmina – but you have already made up your mind to take my offer, haven't you? I see you leaving, in any event. I cannot foresee specifically for your mother without knowing her name, but ISIL will come. That is already beyond my ability to change.”

“Her name is Farrah, O Prophetess, once the wife of Ali Hussein before he divorced her after we changed and he cast us all out.”

The young snake hissed, drawing back in spite of herself as the wolf's eyes turned white. Lowe shook her head after a moment. “If she stays, she will die, but her future is still too confused to be sure how or when. We are sending supplies to the warriors of Al Suwar so that they can defend themselves against ISIL, and the first of them will arrive tonight. I will ask the ones who deliver those supplies to determine how best to get you and your sisters to safety. Try to persuade your mother to come with you when the time comes. I will talk to you again, soon.”