These Broken Wings

[Clutus]

Barn owls are not built for stealth, at least not in the claustrophobia-arousing corridors of Kotir.  As such, Clutus was feeling quite impressed with himself when he slid smoothly into step beside Rousseau.

?You know, you really must be more cautious.?

Rousseau quickened her pace, but showed disappointingly little surprise at his appearance.  "Yer right, when I saw ya creepin' around in the dark I should o' jest turned around.  T'was my mistake." 

Clutus clicked his beak, finding it highly doubtful that the rat had seen him before he had intended her to.  ?Very amusing, Rousseau.  However, you know full well what I was referring too.  Our discussion from earlier is not entirely finished.?

"Ain't it? I thought it was pretty well wrapped up."

Clutus's words came out as a hiss. ?It is not. I feel that it is my duty to provide you counsel at this time, and all I ask is that you hear it out.?

Rousseau took a sudden turn at an intersection of corridors, and replied to Clutus after she realized she had failed to lose him. ?I heard ya out before, an' I don't need anymore of you lecturin'.?

?I realize the candid nature of my earlier comments might have lead to some misunderstand, but my advice is not intended to offend.  I only hope to stifle the continuing trend of reckless behavior on your part.?  Clutus spoke evenly, though his face betrayed some emotion unidentifiable to a ground-dweller.

Rousseau chuckled. "My 'reckless behavior' has saved a lot more lives than your advice. If not fer it, you'd probably be dead by now, as well as many more."

?Indeed, fortune has been on your side thus far, and as such, you have made impressive gains.  However, I should hope that your good fortune does not encourage more recklessness.?  Clutus persisted.

As she reached her door, Rousseau stopped abruptly, and turning to face the owl asked. ?An' what would ya have me do? Sit by, an' watch the fightin' from the window like you do? We are livin' on a knife's edge, a cruel, jagged, rusty knife. If we all stop now, an' jest follow orders, how long do ya think we'll last? A few days, a week maybe.?

?Perhaps only two days more.?  Clutus uttered softly.  ?Do you remember the day?  It is less than two days before we died.  Less than two days until all this started.?

?So wot? Wot difference does the day make? Do ya think Vulpez is jest goin' t' wave his paw an' everythin' will be happy again? No, then we die again, except maybe a day later. Vulpez sent us t' do his dirty work, an' we gotta finish it in wotever way possible. We have t' finish it, not him. 'Gates, I've even managed t' get my crew t' trust me an' think o' me as their captain! We have a chance now! An' if we don't succeed, we don't just lose this stupid castle, we lose ourselves, we lose everything!? Rousseau asserted herself with a raised voice.

?And what if I lose you?!?  Clutus practically screeched, before looking sheepishly around for potential eavesdroppers.

Rousseau's eye widened with surprise for a moment, before narrowing accusingly. ?Ya know, yer charade o' actin' like ya really care about me is gettin' really old. I think we both know ya jest want yer paintin's done, an' this is jest another way o' gettin' 'em. Well a guilt-trip ain't gonna work on me, Featherbrains. I have more important things t' do than stay alive an' paint fer you. I have a duty t' my crew now, an' no guilt-trip o' yers is more important than that.?

?My concern is no ruse.  What do you think will happen to me after you get yourself killed, trying vainly to earn your crew's respect?  Has that ever occurred to you?  No creature in this castle has any use for me.  Captain Blacktip would probably just as soon have me for lunch, rather than for a comrade.  Mister Forst has his mind elsewhere, and I doubt he would object much anyway.  You, Rousseau, are my only wingmate, my only comrade, my only friend...?  Clutus's trembling voice trailed off miserably.

Silence reigned between the pair, as both beasts tried to avoid the other's gaze.  Clutus shuffled his talons, already regretting his words.  He was not even sure if he truly felt his words, or if his camaraderie with Rousseau had been nothing else than an illusion he had set upon himself to stave off loneliness.

Rousseau found her tongue first, and it sounded sharp as she replied. ?I don't care if ya actually worry about me or not. Will's always been my only friend an' ya can't stop me from tryin' t' save 'im. If I see 'im, I will fight my way through a hundred beasts t' save 'im. An' Clutus? I've already told some other beasts, so I don't see any harm in tellin' you too. The last time somebeast said they cared about me, they gave me a necklace o' pearls an' a knife t' the eye. That was the mistake I made, Clutus. I trusted somebeast I shouldn't have. An' with my duties t' my crew an' Will gone, I ain't got time t' make new friends.?

"In the end, you're just as lonely as me aren't you?"  Clutus managed.

There was silence for a moment and then, without another word, the rat closed her door behind her, leaving the owl alone.

* * *

The corridor outside Clutus's nesting chamber was dark when the owl reached it.  The surviving slaves were already being overworked with their new war-time duties.  Healing, cooking, and carrying messages had taken priority over the trivial task of keeping every obscure hallway lit.  The nocturnal bird had no trouble navigating in the dark, but the overhanging shadows felt like a great weight on his mind.  Clutus pushed his unlatched door open with an outstretched wing.  He failed to notice the owl perched on his windowsill until the intruder spoke.

?Good evening, Earth-Crawler.?  The silky-smooth voice greeted, cracking with unsung mirth.

Clutus made himself comfortable in his nest, paying the intruder little attention until he was nested.

After adjusting the loose straw around his body, he responded in a flat, uninterested voice.  ?Good evening, Licium.  I presume you have some reason for your return.?

Licium, though her dark figure was only dimly framed in the window, seemed to flex her wings in a shrug.  ?I cannot say I have any grave news for you.  To be truthful, I have been feeding on the dead outside, and I needed a comfortable place to rest.  Your window seemed to be the safest, seeing as you are unable to harm even a helpless kit.?

Clutus clacked his beak in a owlish curse, but did not move from his nest.

Licium cocked her head curiously, and openly giggled as she asked.  ?Is the infamous 'Scourge of the Sky' allowing female troubles to bother him so?  Ground-dwellers are nothing but trouble.  Unless their dead of course, then they are quite delicious.?

Clutus's eyes shot open, though his voice remained uninterested.  ?What are you rambling on about??

Licium hopped off the windowsill and and approached the nest, and spoke with a voice still plagued with giggles.  ?Oh please, I heard your heartbroken screech from here.  'What if I lose you?' you called like some smitten fledgling.  Tell me, do you truly prefer ground-dwellers now, or have you simply lost all respect for yourself??

Clutus was silent as Licium's word sunk in.  When he spoke his voice was firm.  ?I do not prefer ground-dwellers, not as friends and certainly not in manner you suggest.?

Licium settled beside Clutus's nest, and blinked questioningly at Clutus as she asked.  ?Then why, pray tell, do live amongst the ground-dwellers??

Clutus sat silently, without an answer for either Licium or himself.  Why had he stayed so long in this place of death?  Was it out of loyalty to the others? No, he hadn't liked any of them from the start.  Rallentando had not turned out to be a bad sort, for a ground-dweller. Rousseau was an impressive creature, but he had always looked at her as one admired the sunrise, nothing more.  Clutus did not fully believe the latter, but he buried the thought with another question.  Did he stay to finish the Vulpez's quest?  Of course not.  What did an owl care for a place made for prey.  Besides being a good source of food, Clutus cared nothing for the red house Vulpez had spoken of.  Did he stay out of fear of Vulpez's wrath?  Rousseau had been right when she had said the four of them were on their own now.  Vulpez was out of this fight.  He could not even kill his own prey.  Instead, he sent mortals to do his work.  It was obvious that the master of the underworld as just as imprisoned in the Dark Forest as his subjects.  He had no power over the living.

?If I asked, would you help me leave??  Clutus asked bluntly.

Licium's pitch black eyes glinted thoughtfully as she replied.  ?Perhaps I would, if I was given some reason.?

?Only out of respect to an old, tired owl.  I spent the best part of my life in the sky, just as you do.  Ground-dwellers stole my wings, but they took far more from me then just my ability to fly.  They stole my legacy, as the 'Scourge of the Sky,' and they stole my identity and way of life as an owl.  The most precious thing they took from me though, was my family.  All I ask for is the opportunity to be reunited with my mate, and to live and die amongst my own kind.?  Clutus explained.

Licium was thoughtfully silent for a moment before speaking.  ?You will have my help.  Even if it is only to honor what you once were, Scourge of the Sky.?

Clutus bowed his head in thanks, and then immediately began forming his plan.  ?Obviously, I cannot fly to safety, and it would be impossible for me to escape on foot.?

?I hope you do not expect me to carry you.?  Licium scoffed.

?Be silent, I am deep in thought.?

Licium held her tongue, watching the other owl silently.  Clutus shut his eyes, and scoured his mind for possibilities.  He heard Licium shifting to sit more comfortably, but still no idea came to him.  The tunnel would be guarded, on both sides more than likely.  All the other entries would be covered as well.  The owl was verging on defeat when he opened his eyes, and caught sight of his answer setting, coiled in the far corner of his chamber.

The owl shot upright, exclaiming.  ?Of course!?

Clutus explained his plan hurriedly to Licium, and then explained it again, in much slower, more owlish sentences.  The old tongue felt strange to his beak.

?Meet me here two hours before dawn.?

?Hours??  Licium asked quizzically.  ?What is this ground-dweller word you use??

The confusion frustrated Clutus, but it felt good to finally speak as owls did.  ?When you are far above the earth, look for the first glow of the rising sun.  When you see that first glow, come to me.?

Licium nodded her head in understanding, before saying her farewell and departing.  Once Clutus was once again alone, second thoughts raged in his mind like a gale of autumn leaves.  The faces of his seven original companions raced by his mind's eye, but they looked strange and alien now.  The once familiar, albeit not always welcome, features appeared ugly and unintelligent.  They looked like prey, and nothing more.  Clutus basked in his returning identity.  He was no earth-crawler.  He did not care whether this castle fell or remained.  He did not care if its inhabitants lived or died, and he cared nothing of Vulpez's commands.  He was only an owl after all, and had no concern for the affairs of the ground-dwellers and their gods.