Once More Into the Fray

[Noonahootin]

The steel door swung closed behind Noonahootin, it?s squealing wail of protest silenced only by finding its latch. The lock clicked and the key was joined once again with its brass companions on their ring. As the guards of Carrigul's dungeons congratulated themselves and relaxed their grips upon their spears, one of them pointed out how funny it was to watch a bird walk down stairs. Another asked when they'd get to eat the little ones.

For all its grandeur, the prisons of Carrigul were like any other Noonahootin had ever seen, granted the old owl had always been the one looking in rather than peering out through the cold metal bars. It gave him a dismal sense of familiarity to know the cages of Carrigul were almost an identical copy of the Yew dungeons, the cellblocks arranged in two rows of eight before the hallway split in twain and continued the pattern down another corridor. Knowing which way to turn when the guards prodded him down the steps had only fertilized the growing pain of dread in his gizzard.

The owls were mostly alone in their cellblock save for two wretched creatures a few cells over. As the voices of their captors faded around the corner and back up the way they had come, Noonahootin breathed out and steeled himself before shuffling around, his body packed into the cell and pressed against the mossy stones.

?Are they really gunna eat us?? Aislin asked from the next cell over, her little head tilted up towards her mother who carefully preened her daughter's ruffled wings with her sharp beak. Cram-packed in with her children, Breda had even less room to manoeuvre around in her cell, her delicate gender cursing her to be even larger than both her mate and in-law.

?No, darling, they're far too frightened of mummy and daddy to try that,? Breda answered softly, though Noonahootin couldn't help but hear the note of trepidation in her words. ?Your grandfather Noonahootin is here to protect you, too, my sweet ones.?

?Noonahootin?? Zevka's voice came from a few cells down, causing Noonahootin to jump. ?They got you too, eh? Damn.?

?Miss Blackbriar!? Noonahootin exclaimed, his sense of despair renewed as he pictured Zevka being violently pulled and prodded into a cell.

?Hullo!? Aislin chirruped.
?Hullo!? Belenus echoed his sister.

?Oh, hello,? Zevka said slowly, looking from the owlets to Noonahootin.

Noonahootin gave her a smile and a nod. ?My grandchildren, Belenus and Aislin. This is my son Lord Cleite, and his mate Lady Breda of Mossflower.? He gestured to each owl with a wing. ?Did you find Vanessa or Mister Mayvery??

?No,? Zevka shook her head sadly. ?But I found some information on where Mekad is being kept. Lot of good it does me in here...?

?Well, how about a story, father?? Cleite's restrained tone lashed at Noonahootin harder than any whip, the old grey owl knowing full well Cleite hadn't physically struck him only because his children were right there. Noonahootin could not blame him, sharing in the fury of having one's family used and imprisoned. Amber eyes looked up to meet their reflection in his son's face, but something behind the younger owl snatched Noonahootin's attention away quicker than any corporal's salute.

?Istvan,? Noonahootin breathed, a sudden urgency taking over.

?What?? Cleite demanded, cocking his head sideways to follow his father's gaze. In the corner of the cell across from Zevka, the otter groaned weakly, raising himself up off the mouldy sticks of straw that dotted the prison floor. Cleite grimaced spotting the priestly tattoos inked onto the otter's face. ?Another one of those priests.?

?No! No, that's Istvan!? Noonahootin squawked, his throat suddenly dry and painful. ?Corporal Istvan of the Yew Guard! H-he's a priest of the All-Mother, but not like them! Not like them, he's good, he's with my party!?

The scout began hailing the otter excitedly, rousing the priest from what had looked like a painful fit. When Istvan turned his head to see what had stirred him from his sickly haze, Noonahootin's voice petered out like a wet fire, unable to look away from the mutilated eye socket that marred Istvan's once handsome face.

?Captain?? Istvan's weak reply came long seconds after he had been addressed, and the otter?s trembling limbs barely heaved him into a sitting position. He squinted with his one eye and groaned as his head and neck then spasmed backwards with a fiery pain.

?It's me, Corporal!? Noonahootin confirmed, sounding far more piteous than he had intended. The darkness of the dungeon was no match for Noonahootin's predatory vision, and Noonahootin felt the rumble of a growl erupt from deep inside his chest. Istvan wore the badges of violence, his nose dribbling blood and snot, his body bruised and battered. Gashes above his brow had blinded the otter to anything but red and he looked around weakly as though unsure where the voices were coming from.

?He's beat up pretty bad,? Cleite murmured, his indignation soothed momentarily by Istvan's wretched state.

?They tortured him,? Zevka informed them. ?Tikora cut out his eye. They beat him again for trying to escape.?

The image of Vanessa's father, lying in a pool of blood on a dirt road and gasping for enough air to spit out his last words brought bile up into Noonahootin?s beak, and there was a moment when the owl seriously considered letting it spill forth. Fern had died of treachery and he had died alone. Noonahootin would not lose another friend that way. He swallowed the foulness back down.

?Corporal!? Noonahootin barked, his voice suddenly harsh as he glared. ?Stand to attention when a superior officer addresses you!? He had to keep the otter's attention; Istvan would not fade away from him as Fern had.

?I don't think that's appropriate right now, Noona,? Zevka hissed.

?Father, he can barely breathe let alone salute. This isn't the-?

?CORPORAL ISTVAN,? Noonahootin bellowed, his voice reverberating around the hollow dungeon and shaking the metal bars. ?FRONT. AND. CENTRE.? Each word the owl roared was enunciated with the displeasure of authority, and something inside Istvan forced the otter to crawl forward, to find the one semblance of order that would bring him back into the light. First one paw rose up, then the other, his webbed fingers wrapping tightly around the metal bars. His arms heaved himself up, and Istvan gasped as he collapsed against his cage's door, heaving breaths as he managed a salute.

?I'm here, Captain,? Istvan choked, phlegm heavy on his tongue.

?Chin up, Corporal. Miss Nyika will come through soon,? Noonahootin promised from across the hall that stood between his cell and Istvan's.

?Nyika isn't with you?? Zevka said hopefully, her ears perking. ?Then there's still a chance! She can find Poko! They're clever, they'll figure something out,? Zevka insisted, but Breda and Cleite continued to look uncertain. ?Maybe even find Vanessa.?

?The Mistress...of Spirits is...safe?? Istvan gasped, hunching over his lap as weakness overcame him.

Noonahootin opened his beak to reply, but nothing came out. He had no words to give Istvan the comfort he needed, and the silence stretched on until Istvan grunted and lay back down. ?Hold on, Corporal. That's an order.?

?This Nyika better have a damn good plan,? Cleite grumbled loudly, narrowing his round eyes. ?Who do you have on the outside that can help??

?Miss Nyika, who-HOOse with Tikora,? Noonahootin answered. ?And Miss Poko. They came to Carrigul with us. Miss Poko is still on the outside, back at the inn we were staying at.?

?Why are you in Carrigul? Why are you painted up, what happened to your wing?? Cleite demanded, his curved talon clicking noisily on the stone floor as he shuffled about to face his father proper and eye the grey owl's stitches. ?Surely Yew wouldn't send you all this way with so few troupes and expect you to survive? The journey alone should have killed everyone, what with the stormy season being upon us in Mossflower!?

?Aster-? Noonahootin began, but Cleite cut him off suddenly, a bright smile chasing the scholar's frown away.

?How is Lord Aster? I've seen an amazing new procedure that the surgeons of the Long Patrol have been perfecting. With his wing, he'll be very interested.? Behind Cleite, Aislin and Belenus excitedly began to hoot.

?Salamanderstrong! Salamanderstrong! When can we go back to the fire mountain with the funny long-ears??

Before Breda could hush the children, Noonahootin whirled about and slammed his clenched foot against his cell, swearing loudly and dragging his nails down the steel bars. ?DAMN Aster! Damn him to the deepest depths of whatever afterlife awaits! Drown him in the scat he's spewed to us all!?

The children gasped and stared, exclaiming in low voices, ?OOOooo, grandpa Noona said a bad word...?

?What is the meaning of this?? Cleite screeched, pointing a talon at his father. ?What could Lord Aster possibly have done? What's going on, father? Tell me so I know why my children and mate are locked in prison! Why are you here?!?

?Aster has betrayed us all!? Noonahootin bellowed angrily. His talons clenched with rage and dragged across the floor, leaving deep gouges in the stone. In her cell, Zevka nodded along with Noonahootin's explanation.

?He sent us here to die, Cleite! Aster has been following Tikora's orders! He ordered the best officers and Guardsbeasts to Carrigul on a spying mission, to find out if Carrigul was preparing for war during the stormy season in order to surprise us come the good weather! Accompanying us was a carnival troupe, the Dewhurst Players, who knew the way to Carrigul. He sent along a few merchants so it wouldn't look so suspicious when the Dewhursts players showed up unexpected at the gates of the city. We were just supposed to be spying...and then the mountain road collapsed beneath their feet, Cleite...?

Noonahootin's voice became soft and unnaturally quiet, his gaze unfocused as he stared into the distance. The screams and wails as the mountain rumbled and quaked echoed in his mind as loud as the day it had happened.

?Only nine of us survived. Aster had somehow convinced the local tribe of moles to finish any who-HOO survived. Those heathens and their pet harfang.? The scout spat to the side bitterly, shifting his sore shoulder absently as he looked over at Istvan lying prone upon the floor. ?They picked us off, one by one, until we crossed into poisonous land. They did not follow us through that territory,? Noonahootin said through a smirk. ?The earth can't be worked by mortal paws.?

??M lands be evil!? A high-pitched voice screamed angrily from down the corridor, and every head turned to look. No beast could be seen down the dark hallway, although the presence of loud ruffling noises proved the voice had been real. Very suddenly, the bright figure of a white bird edged just into view from around the corner where the hall split, a solitary eye staring unblinkingly at the family. The jaundiced gaze was full of the malicious hate Noonahootin had come to expect.

?Oh, it's you,? Noonahootin growled, his voice dangerously low as he returned the distasteful look right back at the imprisoned harfang. ?Your usefulness to Aster ran out, did it?? The old warrior stood rather proudly then, his chest thrust out in a great feeling of victory. The white heathen, so ferocious and strong, had met a fate to match his own. She wasn't nearly as magnificent in the dim light, crammed into a cell that was far too small for her. ?Serves you right,? he snorted angrily, then made to look away, mind made up to not spare a single second of attention on the once dangerous foe.

?Aster be acummin? ter rescue me!? the harfang screeched angrily. ??Ee warned me nawt ter speak ter ?eeself or ?ee kin, old one! ?Ee awarned oi yer nawthen but liars an? thieves! Atryin? ter steal the lands of moi tribe! Murdering moi fam?ly! Moirderer! MOIRDERER!?  Her voice reached voluminous levels that rivaled Noonahootin's, her rage piercing through the length of the dungeon. ?Them gunna bleed yer dry! THEM GUNNA ROAST YER CORPSES! Oi can see the stockades frm ?ere! Oi hope yer bleed loik the murderers yer be, burr aye! MOIRDERERS!?

?OH, shut up!? Noonahootin screamed back at her, his composure gone as Belenus and Aislin moaned in despair at the white owl's picturesque threats, curling their wings around each other for comfort. ?She can't hurt you from there, little ones,? Noonahootin cooed through the bars as Breda comforted her children.

?Poisonous land?? Cleite repeated quietly to himself, a spark of familiarity edging its way onto his face. He looked towards his mate, who had her brows knitted together in deep focus as she listened to her father-in-law's tale. ?Was there a tribe of stoats nearby? It's so cold around these mountain passes that many of them would have kept their ermine coats. They called themselves the Bone Marrow Tribe, a very apt name for they erect these pillars of bones around the areas where the ground leaks poisonous air.?

Noonahootin's head spun on his shoulders, a look of confusion and surprise competing for dominance as he stared at Cleite. ?You've seen the ruins? Met the ermine living there?? Zevka lunged forward, her paws wrapping around her cell bars as she listened.

Cleite gave a single gruff laugh, dismissively waving his wing. ?I'm a travelling scholar, father. Of course I've seen it. It shouldn't surprise you that I spend most of my travels in the land between Mossflower and the Court of the Seven Winds.?

?Oh, my boy!? Noonahootin sighed, unable to disguise the glowing love in his voice. ?Master Scholar of the Court of the Seven Winds! I can't tell you how proud I am of you, Cleite.?

?I know, father,? Cleite answered.

?Your mother would have been so proud...?

?I know, father,? Cleite insisted, turning a deep shade of red under his feathers as Breda smiled knowingly in the cell behind him.

?EVIL! Ne?eer heard ?o it! Court o? lies! LIES! MOIRDERERS! Aster will get ?ee out o? ?ere and together, we?ll butcher ?ee, burr aye!?

?Oh, she doesn't give up, does she? As loyal to Aster as you were, father. How dreadful.? Cleite shuddered at the harfang's latest set of angry hollers.

?I wonder how she even knows Aster,? Breda quietly hummed, ignoring the tongues her children stuck out from between their little beaks and directed towards the large white owl down the hall. ?Why does she think he's coming for her? And why does she speak like that??

?He must have seen her potential when he press-ganged the moles,? Noonahootin answered steadily, forcing himself not to show his irritation, the harfang's constant growls and hisses were boring deep holes into his patience. Her very presence boiled his blood into a bubbling anger, and every screech she made caused his talons to tense with an eagerness to score into her flesh and break her bones.

?What would moles want with an owl, anyways?? Cleite asked, his mirthful tone suggesting he thought the entire scenario was as ludicrous as it sounded.

?I...? Noonahootin paused, his mind winding quickly back to one of the attacks the harfang had launched, catching the group off guard one day and forcing Zevka to sacrifice little Gypsumfur in order to save Poko. The harfang had lashed out at the velvety furred projectile only to panic and fly away with the molebabe upon seeing his dark blood stain the white snow. The abandoned house at the edge of the once great ermine city, with its white wraiths still protecting their ruined nest and the shells of their eggs, had housed the helpful story-telling ghost named Quiggley...who had watched the falcon destroy his only entertainment in the afterlife...

The thoughts were even stranger once they were spoken. ?I think the moles must have raised her as their own,? Noonahootin said with dawning realization. ?That's why she's calling them her family.?

?That's ridiculous!? Cleite exclaimed, laughing despite himself. ?Moles raise an owl??

?When I was in the ermine village, the wildcat travelling with us, well, she and I saw something when we stumbled across an old snowy owl nest.?

?Saw something?? Cleite's scepticism positively dripped from his voice.

?She's a seer, Cleite. Not just any seer,? Noonahootin answered, and then held his wings up to stop his son from interrupting him. ?Hear me out! Miss Nyika is no fake. She's seen things from the beyond, and it's driven her to the brink of insanity many times. You can't fake what she's like, Cleite. Even the most practised of thespians would slip up, but she doesn't. When we found the nest, Miss Nyika spoke with a ghost who told her of the falcon that lead the nesting birds to their deaths, and then came back to destroy their eggs.?

?How horrible!? Breda swooned, covering her beak politely with her wing as she gasped.

?And not true,? Cleite told her firmly, giving his father a pointed glare. ?There's no such thing as ghosts. Yo-HOO would tell me that every night when I was little, father. Remember how mom would threaten us chicks if we didn't eat up??

?I know. I know. I told you that Cluny the Scourge wouldn't really come and get you if you didn't eat your shrew tails, that Iwould,? Noonahootin sighed despairingly, his son's logic hard to counter. ?But they do exist. Ghosts are real; not everybeast lingers after death but those who do can speak to Miss Nyika! The ghost told her that a blue falcon had smashed the eggs but saved one. Just one.?

Noonahootin and Zevka both looked down the length of the hall where the harfang was angrily rattling the bars of her cell.

?And the blue falcon just up and dropped the last egg off for the moles to raise? Father, that's ridiculous,? Cleite scoffed.

?Not if he thought she'd be useful in the future!? Zevka quickly said, eyeing the harfang.

?Not if the moles were already under his claw and would do as they were told,? Noonahootin agreed. The grey owl closed his eyes, recalling each and every attack the harfang had launched against them. ?I didn't see it before. The way she flies...feral, raw. Like Aster. She's a vicious fighter, Cleite, but she's never been trained properly. Just like Aster, when Lord Cedar brought him to Yew.?

?Lord Cedar handed Aster over to you and told you to train him!? Cleite shouted. ?She should fight like you if Aster trained her!?

?And I wonder how many birds Aster has taught how to fly?? Noonahootin pointed out. ?I've not only trained my brood, but I've trained every bat and bird that enlisted in the Yew Guard!?

?Well, Aster was crippled,? Cleite insisted.

?A lie. Just like everything else Aster's told us.?

Cleite ground his beak before bowing his head. It had been hard gruel to swallow, surely, but Noonahootin knew Cleite was far more open-minded than him and bore no lifelong ingrained loyalties to the falcon.

?Yew is weak now,? Noonahootin pressed on delicately. ?Carrigul will strike, and many innocents will die or be enslaved because of Aster.?

?But why?? Cleite asked softly. Noonahootin could only shrug. At his father's answer, Cleite angrily barked, ?They must have something against him. Something so dark that Aster would turn his back on Lord Cedar's legacy.?

?Whatever his reason, he's lost to us,? the old scout sighed.

Noonahootin turned to look at the littlest of prisoners trying to squeeze their rounded heads through the bars of the cell, each betting the other they could escape first. They jumped back however when sudden yelling startled them and several sets of boots stomped down the dungeon steps. Each guard took a position in front of Noonahootin's cell, their spears and arrows aimed at the door as though the owl would leap out and slay them at any second.

?Good evening.?

A voice cut through the darkness, as silky and emotionless as Istvan's had once been. The familiar tapping sounds of talons on stone made their way slowly down the step. Fierce golden eyes glared out from below a purple coif as a merlin falcon appeared, calmly making his way down the aisle between the cell blocks.

?Aster,? Noonahootin growled.

?Ah, Captain,? Aster greeted his former subordinate, his face blank. ?I was expecting you.?

?I know.? Noonahootin?s body began to shudder. Aster cocked his head to the side, eyeing Noonahootin's wounded shoulder. The falcon opened his own wings without hindrance or restraint, his blue cloak billowing behind him.

?It's been too long since I could do that in your presence.? The falcon strolled down the hall towards the harfang, calling over his shoulder, ?It hurts...doesn't it??

Noonahootin swore, throwing himself against the cell bars and shoved his legs through the gaps, clawing desperately at the emptiness Aster left behind. ?ASTER! TRAITOR! WHAT'S THE MEANING OF THIS?! WHY?!?

?Hush,? Aster said, his back turned to Noonahootin as he stood outside the harfang's cell. She was crying with joy, thrilled to see her falcon friend come and liberate her as she had hoped. ?It won't be long now. I have to play the game with Tikora just a little longer, and we can go home...?

?But you promised!? the harfang moaned. ?You promised!?

?I know,? Aster spoke. ?There are still a few stray branches I must cut first.?

The falcon turned back around and, heedless of the harfang's sobbing, made his slow way back towards Noonahootin.

?Come with me, Captain.?

?Never!? Noonahootin hissed.

?Perhaps the little ones, then,? Aster smiled, and then launched himself at the cell, screeching violently as he pecked between the bars. With a piercing hoot Breda reared up in front of her children, and, unable to spread her wings in her cell, lashed back at Aster with her talons. Cleite's threatening cries joined his mates.

?Don't you dare!? Zevka and Noonahootin's sharp answers both came in unison, their growls deep and rolling. Chuckling hoarsely, Aster backed away a step. The sound, obviously foreign to him, faded as he considered the owl family.

?Tikora has given me a task. I must obey. Come with me or I'll have them all killed in front of you,? Aster threatened.

?What task?? Noonahootin spat.

?Questioning the orders of your superior officer?? Aster clucked disapprovingly. ?We're going to speak with Tikora. She wants her new pet to summon a spirit. Parlour tricks, of course, but one needs the wings of an owl to complete the spell.? Aster eyed Noonahootin's appendages, smirking just slightly.

The tiny flicker of emotion across Aster's face spurred Cleite to attack through the the bars as his father had done, the scholar screaming heinous threats of bodily dismemberment against the falcon.

?That's the spirit,? Aster said, his smirk widening. ?As clever as always, Lord Cleite.?

?Have you no compassion?!? Breda scolded from her cell. Aster's golden eyes remained trained on Noonahootin.

Nyika won't harm me. She needs me with her, otherwise she wouldn't have lied. The absence of Zevka's protests gave him further comfort, and Noonahootin gave a resigned grumble.

?My family will be unharmed??

?No, father!? Cleite insisted. Noonahootin shook his head, giving his son a faint smile.

?Don't worry, m'boy.? The key in his cell's lock turned, and there was a heavy clanking noise. ?It's going to be fine. These things have a way of working themselves out.?

Especially when I rip Aster's gizzard out. Perhaps I'll kill Tikora, too, if Nyika is tired of cutting everything up herself.

The cell door swung open with a squealing groan and Noonahootin stepped out.

?Good,? Aster said. ?Keep a few spears pointed at his family, just in case the good captain has lost some honour with age.?

The growl boiled forth before he could stop it, Noonahootin's unwavering glare trained on Aster. There were many pairs of eyes staring at him, the guards raising the sharp tips of their weapons at the threatening owl, but he only turned to look at his young grandchildren, their trembling little forms breaking his heart.

?Here, sweet ones,? the old owl said, plucking the least greasy feathers that he could find from his wings. ?It's tradition in this family to keep the plummage of our loved ones as a memento.? He held the grey feathers,

?I know!? Belenus piped up excitedly as he took the feathers, proud of his sudden responsibility. ?Papa promised that when I'm old enough, he'll give me grandma Kinni's! And, and, and Aislin will get our uncle Pros-ECK-yew-tees! Look what grandpa Noona gave me, momma!?

Noonahootin looked tearfully at Cleite, his beak trembling as he blinked profusely. His son smiled. ?I figured they should have them.?

Pausing just in front of Zevka and Istvan's cells, Noonahootin toed at the ground and cleared his throat, sniffing just once.

?Do not worry for me, friends,? the captain said. ?I go to the Mistress of Spirits. We'll have a drink when this is all over, haha!?

?Good bye,? Zevka said, her eyes wet despite her knowing smile. ?Don't make our medical skills for nothing, now.? She winked at him, their private joke bringing smiles to their faces as Noonahootin was prodded by a guard and led away, up the dungeons steps and to whatever fate Nyika roped him into.

The dungeon became very quiet save for the sound of the harfang trying to collect herself. ?He'll burn! He'll get what he deserves!?

Cleite snapped his head around to glare at the white owl. ?Children, let me tell you the story that an ermine once told me. It's called 'The Winter of the Bravest Owls'.?

~*~

Aster and the guards led Noonahootin up, and up is where his feet continued to take him as the main floor to the palace passed them by. A narrow staircase that wound in tight coils snaked higher and higher, and Noonahootin became short of breath in the cramped stairway, dragging his feet over each step as he was forced to climb sideways. When at last the stairs ended at a door, Aster gently flicked the latch holding the wooden barrier shut, and it swung open to reveal a narrow roof where a familiar weasel and wildcat waited.

Tikora turned, her paws resting on her rounded belly. Noonahootin's eyes followed the corded leash tied about Tikora's wrist all the way to the collar encasing Nyika's neck.

?Good evening, Duke!? the weasel greeted him cheerfully, then gave the leash a tug. Nyika, who had been busying herself drawing runes all over the roof, stumbled and looked up. ?Mind your manners, pet!?

?Hello,? the wildcat whispered, shaking profusely as she met Noonahootin's face. She mouthed an apology, but Noonahootin only shook his head and smiled.

?I'm sure Aster has informed you why you're here!? Tikora went on, strolling languidly around Nyika's chalk patterns, looking at each one in fascination. ?I'm going to see some ghosts before bed tonight! Nyika assures me that there are plenty who follow me around but they prefer the night. I'll laugh so hard when she sends them back to the afterlife without any revenge! HEEHEE, it'll be such good fun!? Tikora danced with her swollen stomach, dragging Nyika along with her. She stopped and pointed to a circle that contained an elaborate star at its centre.

?The moon and the sun, she tells me,? Tikora explained. ?The spell requires a sacrifice, the eagle of day represents Aster, but since night has already fallen, it is the owl whose blood my pet must spill! I just can't wait to see if it works! Now, have a seat, Captain, right there in the centre!?

Aster kicked him violently, and Noonahootin stumbled forward in surprise. The owl held Nyika's gaze, waiting for a sign. She was shaking so hard, her green eyes barely able to meet his.

?You done yet?? Tikora growled, once again jerking the leash.

Nyika shook her head. ?The symbols are numerous and must be exact, or else I could accidentally summon a ghoul or a wraith.?

?Now that sounds exciting!? Tikora said, her fingers dancing in anticipating.

?No, those are horrible things. Ghosts can't harm us, but wraiths can,? Nyika explained, her voice calm and level tone steady. Noonahootin remembered the feeling of the wraiths flying over him the day he and Nyika had discovered the nest. He turned his head to look over his shoulder, casting Aster a look that made the falcon tilt his head in question.

?Bow before me, owl!? Tikora exclaimed, and Noonahootin stepped into the circle, his head held high. Tikora growled again, grabbing Nyika by the collar and throttled the wildcat back and forth. ?Do as I command, or I'll toss her off the roof! Don't try anything funny like flying away, either; Aster will take you down before my guards can release their arrows!?

Still looking to Nyika, he slowly lowered himself. Was this all part of her trick? To summon a wraith and end Tikora? He'd rather not, but if he had to lose his wings for such a cause, then so be it. He held hope that the wildcat would simply break the chain and push Tikora off the roof instead. He was sure the ax she held in her paw was sharp enough, so long as there was enough force

?Hold out your wings out, birdy!? Tikora's taunting voice ordered. When Noonahootin silently refused to comply, Aster's sharp talons ripped at his wings until he forced the owl to keep them spread.

?Good!? Tikora snapped her fingers and a guard handed her a sharp hatchet which she in turned passed to Nyika with a warning glare. ?Show me now, pet. Make my spirits come to life.?

Nyika took the hatchet and stared at Noonahootin in horror. His heart dropped into his stomach; she had no plan. Nyika had been flying by the whiskers of her cheeks and now she was trapped, and so was he. The Mistress of Spirits, his poor seer, had merely been stalling. Her pleading eyes begged him for some sort of guidance.

?Sweet kitten,? Noonahootin gained Nyika's attention with a soft hoot. ?Strike true.? He closed his eyes when Nyika raised the hatchet slowly, and sucked in a bracing breath.

I smell smoke? The owl's eyes snapped open and he struggled to stand, knocking Aster back and sending Tikora scuttling away. A thin trail of smoke rose like a choking phantom from the palace's lowest floors, and the guards shifted restlessly as it dissipated into the air. The wildcat smiled thinly at him then, murmuring quietly.
?They did it.?
The bell in the square tolled out a mournful warning, and Tikora swore.

?Find out where the fire is coming from,? she ordered the guard closest to the stairs, and the obedient servant bolted as soon as he was able, no doubt grateful for the opportunity to miss the 'sacrifice'.

There was a loud roar and the palace shook suddenly. The smoke trail billowed into a river, black ash raining into the air as the ominous cloud rose higher and higher. Agile shadows fluttered, weaving within the confines of the smog like the dark spirits Nyika was to conjure, until they broke free of their choking cover.

?Cleite!? Noonahootin exclaimed, watching as his son circled until his mate caught up with him, their young ones clutched protectively in their talons. ?FLY!? Noonahootin screamed, repeating his order over and over until his voice was hoarse for competiting against Tikora's.

?GET THEM!? the weasel screamed, flailing her limbs madly about. ?Get them! Kill them! Boil them alive! Get them!?

The guards rushed to do Tikora's bidding, and Nyika pulled away from the angry false priestess. ?You're not going anywhere, cat!? Her teeth, bared and sharp, snapped at the wildcat and then at Aster.

?Kill them! I can't have his Court knowing! Fail and I'll MURDER YOUR MOTHER!?

Aster took off, his wings kicking up the dirt and leaves that had collected in the eaves, talons spreading wide as he made off to the chase. Weight downed by their young, Cleite and Breda were flying slower than they could have, and Noonahootin screamed even louder, begging them to fly away. They could not hear him, too far away but not far enough.

With no one to hold him down, Noonahootin looked at Nyika one last time.

?Be brave,? he repeated, and spread his wings with as much power as Aster had and more. The force of the wind he conjured knocked Tikora and Nyika back; the wildcat watched in awe as the grey owl powerfully took to the skies, screaming out his challenge.

The cold air rushed by him while dark clouds gathered above, blocking the moon. It would snow that night, the scout knew, beating his wings as hard and fast as he could to catch up with his former lord. Time slowed for the old owl, the wind rushing by his ears calming into silence until only the sound of Aster's wings beats were audible. Noonahootin banked, and threw his golden cloak over Aster's head, blinding the falcon as he plummeted, his wings twisted in the silk.

?NOT MY SON!?

The old owl's feral roar scared the falcon as he clawed away the cloak, his golden eyes widened with shock. Noonahootin's talons collided with his face, ripping and rending at Aster's eyes. The falcon swerved and tried to fly higher, but Noonahootin was right on his tail feathers until the cold began to frost his wings as he could climb no higher. The falcon veered, trying to strike out at his attacker, but Noonahootin had circled around him, tackling him from behind.

?NO! WE'LL BOTH DIE!? Aster screamed, terror in his voice.

?So be it,? Noonahootin growled, digging his talons into Aster. The falcon struggled, thrashing about. Noonahootin's split talon broke in half; the owl squealed in pain and Aster seized his only opportunity, diving low and heading towards the city. Noonahootin regained his composure, his wings clapping and driving the falcon to fly faster, ever faster as he followed.

?I TRUSTED YOU!? Noonahootin cried, keeping pace with the younger fighter even as salty tears began to cloud his vision. ?I loved you! You were Lord Cedar's heir! I trained you! YOU ACCEPTED WYOOT'S WEDDING INVITATION!?

Aster turned his head, checking the owl's location as he sharply circled around the bell tower. Ground walkers were running in every direction, some watching the birds battle while others ran with buckets of water towards the palace of their wicked All-Mother. He dove low again, his talons scraping the cobblestone road as he tried to drive his furious pursuer into the ground.

?I TAUGHT YOU THAT!? Noonahootin roared once again, following Aster only low enough so that when the falcon began to climb again, he'd be right where the traitor would be. Sure enough, he collided with Aster, beating at him with beak and talon until his broken stitches could no longer hold back the blood that flowed out of his shoulder and left red streams down his wing.

?Please!? Aster begged, his face a mess of broken feathers and barely-attached strips of flesh. ?Please, Captain! They had my mother! I had no choice! Please!? Aster sobbed one last time, only to have Noonahootin's wing slap him right across the face. The falcon's crying had done him no good, for Noonahootin's fiery eyes had clouded over with a crimson reserved only for the most hateful of rages.

Aster fled again, frantic to escape back to the palace where archers, javelin throwers, and spear beasts would save him. The falcon wound around the roofs and alleys of Carrigul, desperate to lose the old grey owl that just did not seem to weaken. The young lord of Yew could not understand how the scout managed to keep up with him, throwing every manoeuvre, every trick he had ever been taught by his pursuer back at him. Too scared to look back, Aster climbed into the air until the shadows of Carrigul were nothing but cloaks of black on the far-away ground.

?This is for Captain Fern,? Noonahootin began counting off the names of those Aster had sent to the grave with his lies and his treachery. ?And for Poko's parents!? His heart pounded violently in his chest, shooting bursting pain throughout his body with each beat. ?And for Gashrock and Cookie! For Vanessa and Istvan and Zevka and Mekad! For Takis and his ilk! FOR NYIKA AND POKO! THEY'RE JUST CHILDREN, YOU TURNCOAT!?

He chased Aster higher and higher until the cold began to cramp his wings and freeze his wingtips. Aster stopped flapping then, falling back in the air as though struck with sudden paralyses. Noonahootin whirled his head around to watch Aster fall, only to find the falcon's curved beak slashing at his face.

?THEY HAVE MY MOTHER!? Aster screamed. ?I WON'T LET THEM KILL HER!?

?It's a lie!? Noonahootin bellowed, turning his head back around to avoid having his eyes plucked from their sockets. ?YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT!?

?Be quiet!? Aster screamed, hammering at Noonahootin with balled talons.

?YOU SOLD US OUT FOR A LIE!? Nooahootin howled, catching one of Aster's feet in his own.

?Be quiet!?

?YOU DISHONOUR THE GUARD AND DISHONOUR LORD CEDAR! TRAITOR! TURNCOAT! TRAITOR!?

?BE QUIET!? Aster roared, ripping his fist from Noonahootin and goring the owl's red wing, thrashing madly once he hooked his talons in, bashing his head and beak against Noonahootin's face while the two powerful birds fell to the earth. Noonahootin once again turned his head to avoid the heavy, rage-fuelled blow, but Aster flipped him in the air and crashed down onto the owl's back, clawing and tearing and pecking, desperate to save his life and silence the hurtful words. Noonahootin grappled for purchase against his enemy, his talons snagging Aster?s Yew blue cloak. There was a dreadful popping sound when Aster retracted his talon from Noonahootin's shoulder, and the owl watched in silent horror as his wing streamed uselessly in the wind of his fall, looking more like a kite on a blustery day than a bird's most valuable appendage.

Aster shrieked in joy, his talons gripping at Noonahootin's other wing as he hammered at it, twisting his toes against the bone while Noonahootin flailed uselessly in his grip. The snap was all Aster needed before he unlocked himself from his former friend, and cackled as he escaped their free-fall.

His wings useless, Noonahootin plummeted, watching with wide eyes as Aster grew smaller and smaller in the cloudy sky above him. Was this it? He had lost to Aster, and Nyika would surely be killed. They had...won. Carrigul had won, and all his worst fears had come true. He had let his friends down; they would suffer because of his attempt to kill Aster.

They had won.

?No...? Noonahootin whimpered, the pain in his chest becoming unbearable as he closed his eyes in defeat and let himself fall.

?Oh, Noona...?

Melodious, soft, sweet notes reached his ears.

?What have they done to you, my sweet...?

He knew that voice.

?Kinni...??

His eyes opened slowly and he saw her pale brown feathers, her strong, young body beside him as she glided alongside her mate. ?How can this be?? he choked out, reaching towards her with his wings. She brushed her own against him and he lifted himself from the air, wings strong and unbroken as he circled and danced with her in jubilation. It no longer felt like flying, as he twirled and banked and spun; he felt like the air around him flowed with a thousand easy currents and he floated and swam in its warmth.

?My sweet,? she cooed, and they brushed their foreheads together, soaring above the city and circling the tower where Tikora fumed, the weasel?s attention trained down onto a lower roof, completely ignorant to the wildcat behind her, Nyika had collapsed onto her knees with her paws covering her gaping mouth, struggling to stop herself from sobbing. She was looking down onto the roofs below the tower as tears streamed down her face, her paws frantically wiping them away. Noonahootin made to approach the seer, knowing at last that she could see him, but a blur of brown and black landed in front of the wildcat before he could reach her.

It wasn't Aster that spread his wings before the seer, ignoring the screams of rage that Tikora spewed forth at her. Prosecutes stood, tall and brave and proud as he always had been, glaring at the weasel?s back.

?She'll be fine, my sweet,? Kinnikinnick smiled reassuringly, brushing her wingtips against him as they landed effortlessly together.

?How can I know?? Noonahootin answered sadly, resting his head on his mate's shoulder. ?How can I be sure??

?Cleite will make you proud!? Prosecutes answered from his protective perch in front of Nyika. His baritone voice, strong as the days he had fought alongside his father, cut through Noonahootin's unease. ?We've been keeping an eye on my little brother! He'll make sure justice is done!?

The sound of his son's voice, absent for so many years, brought Noonahootin to tears, and he broke at last, collapsing against his mate and crying with joy.

?Captain??

The sound of Nyika's whimpering voice brought him out from Kinnikinnick's comforting embrace. ?Sweet kitten,? he whispered, stepping forward and reaching towards the wildcat with his wings. ?It's alright. It's alright, I'm alright.?

"I'm sorry,? she croaked. ?I?m so sorry, Noona!?

?Oh, sweet kitten!? Noonahootin sighed, trying to wrap his wings around her but grimacing as they simply moved through the wildcat. ?It?s not your fault.?

?My sweet...? Kinni said softly, nuzzling into him. ?It's best if you don't linger by her side.?

?I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. It wasn't supposed to happen this way." Nyika?s lip trembled, her entire body wracking with silent sobs.

?You'll think of something, sweet kitten,? Noonahootin softly told her. ?Zevka and the rest are in the dungeons. Cleite will return for you. You'll think of something.?

Kinnikinnick had meandered to the edge of the roof, her head turned as she smiled and waited for her mate. Noonahootin looked from her to the wildcat, the powerful urge for freedom and flight beckoning him.

?Be brave,? he whispered, nuzzling his beak against Nyika's nose as she had done in the dining room.

?I can?t!?

?I...I feel it calling to me, Nyika...?

He turned, giving in to his need to fly with his mate. At the edge of the roof, Captain Noonahootin of the Yew Guard spread his wings and looked back one last time to his friend and the most courageous beast he had ever known.

?Be brave,? he ordered her and smiled. The old grey owl closed his amber eyes and flew off into the sky with Kinnikinnick, fading into the darkness, unbroken and proud as ever.