Author's Note: You'll notice that good ol' Lord Zedd has undergone, shall we say, some cosmetic changes. I have a reason for doing things this way, which will be made clear in subsequent episodes.
By: SilvorMoon
People worried about Skull. They always had, in a way, or at least joked that they did. Thime and time again, he would do something stupid or strange or inexplicable, and people would say to each other, "You know, sometimes I worry about him." But that had all been in fun. Skull would follow his best friend Bulk into one mishap after another, but the two of them would always bounce back. They had run into more monsters than anyone but the Power Rangers, yet they always lived to tell the tale. People had always liked Bulk and Skull in a mixed up sort of way. They were the royal court jesters of Angel Grove, adding a touch of the laughable and unbelievable to everyday life. Now, though, things were different. Bulk and Professor Phenomenus, Skull's only two real friends, had gone to Terra Venture and left him behind, and he was miserable. This was no laughing matter.
No one, Skull least of all, knew what he was going to do without his partner. The two of them had been an inseparable pair, always together. They had almost seemed like a single entity, one mind in two bodies, Bulkandskull. It was always "Bulk and Skull," too, never "Skull and Bulk." Everyone knew that Bulk was the brains of the duo, while Skull served mainly as a spare pair of feet and hands and a voice of moral support. Skull was used to deferring to his best friend, or, in a more recent development, Professor Phenomenus. Without someone to tell him what to do, Skull felt cut adrift.
A few people, aware of Skull's plight, tried to be friendly to him, but it was clear that he didn't exactly fit in with them. They were nice to him out of pity, and they knew it, and he knew it. After a while, he got tired of it, and he began to withdraw from their company.
He spent a lot of time wandering around outside, aimless rambles that took him all over Angel Grove. Mostly, though, he walked in the forest. Being alone didn't feel quite so lonely when he was surrounded by living things. Here among the animals and trees and birds, boredom and restlessness could be replaced by a kind of cool, empty serenity.
A gentle wind stirred the boughs of a stand of cedar trees, casting their sweet, wild scent on the air, and birds twittered as their perches were disturbed. The scent and sound triggered a powerful memory, strong enough that Skull had to stop his walking long enough to give it due consideration. From a pocket in his coat, he took out a feather. He had been carrying for almost three years, and it was beginning to look a bit ragged around the edges despite the care he had taken of it, but it still had its unique pattern of dusty rose and gold, and it still smelled faintly of cedar wood. It was a reminder that he did, at least, have one other friend besides the two who had left him. The feather belonged to Cedar, the beautiful alien girl who liked him despite his shortcomings, who called him Eugene and made it sound good, and who had picked his clumsy feet up off the ground and taught him to fly. Somehow, girls without feathers had never looked quite as good after he had met Cedar. She was gone now, back to her own time and place to accept whatever Fate had in store for her. Skull sighed and put the feather away. He sure felt like he could use a friend like that right now.
Suddenly, he was struck blind as a pair of hands was clamped over his eyes.
"Hey! Who turned out the lights?" he squawked.
"Guess!" a voice chirped. Skull would have known that voice anywhere, even if it hadn't been accompanied by that familiar perfume.
"Cedar!" he exclaimed joyfully.
"Guessed right!" she giggled, taking her hands away from his eyes and hugging him instead in her usual exuberant way. The young woman-bird possessed unbounded energy and unlimited affection for her friends. "Bird happy to see Eugene again!"
"Yeah, I'm glad to se you again, too," he replied, somehow managing to turn himself around to get a look at her. "You've grown."
It was true. The last time he had seen her, she had been several inches shorter than him. Now they could nearly see eye to eye. He noted another change as well. She had formerly been garbed in a cast-off dress and sandals of Ashley's, but she was now outfitted in something more the style of her own people, a simple white dress, unembroidered and unadorned except for a grey cord knotted at her wiast for a belt, and she was barefoot. Despite this show of simplicity, her wrists and ankles were decorated with silver and amber jewelry, and her glorious strawberry-blonde hair was caught in a silver clasp. The magical gemstone, the Crystal of All Times, still hung on a chain around her neck.
"Is been three year on my planet," said Cedar. "Fighting goes on, but not as much, now. My father is making a treaty with the invaders, and we think the war is almost over. Father said Cedar could leave for little while, come visit."
"Good thing you did," Skull replied. "It's been REALLY boring around here."
Cedar looked sympathetic. "Aw, how come?"
In reply, Skull gave a brief explanation of his friends's journey to Terra Venture, and how he had foolishly overslept and missed the departure. Cedar listened with no trace of accusation, no hint of anything that would show she thought he had been stupid.
"So, Eugene unhappy 'cause he can't fly to Terra Venture?" she asked.
"It's a lot further than you could fly," said Skull. "I'd need a rocket ship or something to get me there."
"All you need is this," she replied, touching the jewel at her throat.
"Are you sure?" he asked doubtfully.
" Course sure. Crystal can go everywhere," said Cedar. "Brought me here from ten thousand years ago . . . oh! Got an idea! Eugene can visit my place!"
"Hey, cool!" Skull enthused.
"Yah, yah! Come visit Cedar for little while, then go to Terra Venture," said Cedar. "Would be lots of fun!"
"All right! Let's go!" said Skull. It sounded like the perfect solution to him. How could it go wrong?
Cedar held out one hand. "Hang on," she said.
Feeling a bit awkward, Skull took Cedar's hand, while she used the other to grip the Crystal of All Times. She whispered a quiet word, and they both vanished in a blink of warm, golden light.
Hemlock resisted the urge to preen his feathers with nervousness. He was the closest thing the Aerials had to a ruler, and a lot of responsibility rested in his talons - even more so now than in times of peace. He was walking a very fine diplomatic line right now. One well-placed word might result in the Aerials being excluded from the rest of this war, but an ill-considered one could bring about disaster.
He stared into the mirror, evaluating his reflection. He was a serious man of middle years, his grey plumage turning white here and there with age. The process of aging had also made shape-shifting difficult, so he remained almost constantly in the hybrid form of a man with the wings and head of an eagle, the shape that he found most comfortable. Still he was a powerful man, a man of authority, and he still showed it in the way he carried himself. He was still strong and hardened from many years of work, and the joint-stiffening that plagued the elderly had not yet taken a hold on him. In his youth, he might have tried to win himself an advantage in this game of politics and war by shifting to his fully human form in hopes that the young emperor-mage might have more respect for something that at least appeared to be of his own race. Now, Hemlock would have to rely more on hoping that self-assurance and careful words might have the same effect. His only concession was to dress himself in fine human clothes of silver, grey, and white that matched his feathers, though most people of his race preferred minimal clothing. With a sigh, he brushed the mirror with a wingtip and called up the visage of the last person he really wanted to see.
The face that replaced Hemlock's was of a young man of some humanoid race. It was handsome, statuesque, almost demigodly, kept from perfection by a taint of arrogance and avarice, and framed by a carefully tamed set of dark, curly locks that never seemed to be out of place. It was rumored that he wasted a good deal of his magical power on personal spells to keep himself looking as young and handsome as possible. His body still held its youthful strength, but there was something about the way he reclined on his throne that suggested that he was allowing indolence and easy living to soften him. His eyes . . . they didn't look like eyes at all. They were like two burning coals flickering red and orange in his eye sockets.
"Well?" he said in his bored way. "What is it you want of me?"
"I am replying to your message, as you requested," Hemlock replied. *Be careful. Let him know you're not afraid of him, but don't sound too cocky, either.*
"I didn't REQUEST a reply, old man. I ORDERED one," the young lord replied condescendingly.
"I beg to differ," said Hemlock. "As you are the leader of your people, so I lead mine. Ve are on equal footing and must address each other as equals."
The emperor-mage barely restrained himself from leaping from his throne in fury. Even so, a red glow of anger surrounded him, and his eyes burned like twin fires.
"Do you dare presume that you could give orders to me?"
"Of course not," said Hemlock. "As I said, ve are EQUALS. I vould not order you to do anything, only rrrequest. I am assuming that you vill trrreat me vith equal courtesy."
"Enough! I grow weary of your voice. Say what you have to say and be done with it."
"I have deliberated over the terms of your proposed trrreaty, and I have discussed it vith my advisors at great length," said Hemlock. "Ve have decided to accept your offer. My soldiers can no longer afford to fight this battle. I vill vithdraw my armies and declare neutrrrality in exchange for your vow of peace."
"Fine," the mage replied, smirking a little in contempt as he listened to Hemlock's heavily accented speech. "You have my word of honor, none of my troops will attack your planet in any way. I will send an emissary with the treaty for you to sign, so we can get this over with quickly."
Hemlock felt he might faint with relief, but he didn't allow that to show. Fortunately, it was difficult for most non-Aerials to read his avian expressions.
"Thank you, your highness," was all he said.
"Save it," said the young lord. "Go away. I have important matters of state to discuss. I don't have time to waste on you and your feather-brained warriors."
Hemlock curbed the urge to reply to that insulting remark. Instead, he nodded graciously and cancelled the magical mirror-link.
With the conversation over with, the young lord waved one hand, and one of his servants scuttled out of a shadow and carried the mirror away on its stand. The emperor-mage watched and waited until the servant had vanished once again, until his presence could no longer be detected anywhere in the room. There were indeed important matters to discuss, and he wanted no prying ears eavesdropping.
"Goldar!" he barked.
In a flaming flash, the winged and armored warrior appeared in the throne room. He stood at attention, awaiting his master's orders.
"Would you like to hear something interesting?" asked the mage casually. "The ruler of the Aerials has just agreed to call off his troops in exchange for my word of honor that I will leave his world in peace. What do you think of that?"
"Are you going to destroy them now, or wait until later?" Goldar replied.
"Later. Wait until they have all returned from battle. I want them ALL wiped out - men, women, and children. As soon as I give the order, I want you to deliver my . . . peace treaty."
Goldar bowed, grinning wickedly. "Yes, Lord Zedd."
Skull and Cedar rematerialized in what appeared to be somebody's basement. It was cool and dark, but well cleaned. The walls were lined with shelves, each one filled with neatly organized and labeled jars and bottles. A flight of stone stairs led to the upper rooms.
"Here we are, all home," Cedar announced.
A voice echoed from somewhere, "Cedar, is that you I felt arriving?"
"Yes, Father," Cedar chirped. "Just got back. Brought friend to visit."
"Fine, fine. Come upstairs. I have news."
"Coming," she replied. She tugged at Skull's arm, dragging him toward the steps. "Come on, human! Want you to meet Mama and Papa."
Skull allowed himself to be pulled out of the basement and up into a sunny kitchen. Almost lost amid a jungle of dried herbs and copper utensils that dangled from the ceiling and a surprising number of drawers and cabinets on the floor, a female Aerial was busily stirring a pot of something over a small stove. Though not as young and slender as Cedar, she still had the same dusty rose-gold coloring. Upon sighting the younger bird-woman, the began to chatter in the trilling, chirping speech of her people.
"Use the Common Tongue," said Cedar gently. "I've brought a guest. He doesn't know Tienese. Mother, this is Eugene. Eugene, this is my mother."
"Uh, hi," said Skull, uncertainly offering a hand to shake. Cedar's mother took it gravely.
"Velcome to our home," she said. "I apologize from my rrrudeness, but ve have not had many visitorrrs lately - at least, not frrriendly vons."
"A situation," a male voice interrupted, "that vill soon be changed."
The announcement preceded the arrival of a very dignified-looking Aerial. Unlike Cedar and her mother, this man looked more like an eagle than an ordinary songbird. His feathers were silver- grey, except for a few in his crest that were turning white with age, and he dressed in clothes of the same colors, as elaborate as Cedar's were plain.
"What do you mean, Father?" asked Cedar.
"I have been talking to the esteemed Lord Zedd," her father replied, his voice tinged with disgust at the mention of the warlord's name. "He has agreed to the peace treaty. As long as ve do not take sides in this var, he has promised to leave us in peace."
Cedar squealed with delight. "Oh, that is wonderful! Did you hear that, Eugene? Our planet is safe!"
"Yeah, that's great," Skull replied, at the same time thinking, *Lord Zedd. I could have sworn I've heard that name somewhere before.*
"So, this is Eugene, then?" said Hemlock. "Then I vill do for you vat I vould not do for that arrogant vould-be emperor." With a flick of his wings, he phased from his half-bird form into a fully human shape. He solemnly took Skull's hand and shook it.
"My daughter has spoken well of you, Eugene Skullovitch," he said. "I am pleased to welcome you to our home. Please, feel free to stay as long as you like. Now that our part in the war is drawing to a close, we are free to show hospitality to our guests."
"Is good that our daughter has found a gentleman frrriend," said Cedar's mother to Hemlock. "She is getting old enough to think about settling down and rrraising chicks of her own."
""Mother!" trilled Cedar in exasperation. Skull blushed crimson in embarrassment.
"Don't rush the child, Poplar," said Hemlock. "She is young yet. Plenty of time for her to think of such things. She is only sixteen summers."
"I vas sixteen ven I marry you," answered Poplar.
Cedar gave a sigh of annoyance. "Mother, Eugene is friend only. I only brought him to visit a little while. then I will take him to join friends in his own time."
"Then you'd best be off, then, and show him the sights of our fair city while the sun still shines," said Hemlock.
"Thank you. We will be back in time for dinner," Cedar promised. She led Skull out of the house, and he followed, grateful to be escaping the embarrassing conversation.
"I don't know vat's wrong vith that girl," said Poplar. "I though the boy is rather nice, for human."
Hemlock laughed as he shifted back to his more comfortable man-bird form. "Patience, my dear. These things take time. Children these days do not alvays know vat they vant."
Meanwhile, Cedar was showing her friend down the dusty streets of her city.
"I am sorry about my mother," she apologized. "She is very old-fashioned, thinks only thing girls should do is get married and take care of husband and chicks." She giggled. "Father wants me to follow in his wingstrokes and become great sorceress. Abracadabra mumbo-jumbo!" she exclaimed, waving one hand in a parody of a mystic gesture. Skull laughed.
"So, what do you really want to do?" he asked.
"Don't know," Cedar replied. "Might like to be married and have chicks of my own someday, but . . . much else to do first. I want to go places and see and learn things. Perhaps I will be explorer someday, discover new secrets. What about you, Eugene? Have your parents plotted your life-course for you?"
"They don't really care," said Skull. It wasn't said bitterly, just a little sadly, like an unpleasantness that was accepted long ago and nearly forgotten. "I think they gave up on me being anything a long time ago. I don't even know if they've noticed I didn't go to Terra Venture like was supposed to. Now Bulk, HE knew what we were going to do. We were gonna make it big - be rich and famous."
"How?" asked Cedar curiously.
"Aw, lots of ways. Discover comets, become world famous detectives, capture aliens, discover the secret identities of the Power Rangers . . . Man, we spent a LONG time looking for the Power Rangers. Never found 'em, though. Bulk always liked heroes. He wanted to BE a hero."
"What about you?" asked Cedar. "Didn't you want to be a hero, too?"
"I dunno, not really," said Skull. "What kind of hero would I make? I'm not good at much of anything."
"You can fly," said Cedar playfully. "Bet your friend can't do that."
Skull laughed, trying to imagine how that would look. "You couldn't even lift him off the ground."
Cedar saw the truth in that and started to giggle. "We will tie ropes around him, find four or five strong young men to carry him."
That was too much for both of them, and they burst into fits of laughter.
"And vat are you two laughing at?" inquired a voice.
Looking up, the two found themselves facing a stern-looking male Aerial. He was of the hawk- type, much like Cedar's father, but his feathers were more golden colored, and he wore a green uniform with gold trim. A red sash with embroidered stars on it indicated that he was a man of some importance.
"Oh, good afternoon, Captain Redwood," said Cedar politely. "I did not know you would be back so soon."
"Ve vere all in a hurry to be back home," answered the captain. "Ve came as soon as ve got vord of the trrreaty. It is a rrrelief to know that our vorld is safe. However," he added thoughtfully, "in a vay, I am sorrry that this is the only vay ve could save it. I do not like this so-called Lord Zedd. He is not suited to be lord of a heap of garrrbage! If the safety of Tien vere not at stake, I vould be glad to continue fighting on Zorrrdon's side." He sighed. "Vell, I vill not qvestion your father's judgement. It vas a harrrd decision. So, tell me who your frrriend is."
"This is Eugene," said Cedar. "Eugene, this is Captain Redwood, one of our warriors."
"Pleased to meet you," said Captain Redwood courteously. "I am sorrry I cannot stay, but I must be in attendance ven the emmissary arrrives vith the trrreaty." With a polite goodbye, he hurried away.
"What's all this about a war?" asked Skull.
Cedar sighed. "For as long as anyone can remember, a young mage who calls himself Lord Zedd has been trying to take the universe as his own. Those worlds he takes, he makes into slaves. He is an evil tyrant and master of monsters. If he wins this war, he will destroy or enslave everyone! But this is not going to happen. A great wizard called Zordon has gathered many brave followers to battle Lord Zedd's minions. My father sent a small army to assist him, but Lord Zedd has been striking against us while our protectors were away. Our militia has been doing their best to protect us, and Father uses the Crystal of All Times, but we could not go on like that forever. It is better this way, that we should live in peace."
Skull nodded, his mind spinning. Wizards, armies, evil warlords, magic spells . . . it was all a little out of his comprehension.
"Come," said Cedar. "We do not need to talk about the war. The war is over for us, and there are so many good things here for us to see."
"I guess you're right," said Skull, but he was still thinking, *Lord Zedd. I know I've heard of Lord Zedd. If Lord Zedd is still around in my time, does that mean . . . he's going to win?*
A few hours later, Hemlock was pacing the floor in nervousness. Arranged in formal rows nearby, a number of high-ranking officers watched their leader in edgy silence. The more avian preened their wing-feathers restlessly, while the more humanoid shuffled their feet and toyed with the embroidery on their official uniforms. A clock on a shelf ticked. A fly buzzed. Time slipped by, and the tension mounted. Where was the emissary? Had something gone wrong? Had Lord Zedd changed his mind? Suddenly, the tension was broken as Poplar fluttered into the room, looking frightened.
"The emissary is here," she said breathlessly. "I don't like the looks of him, Hemlock. Are you cerrrtain ve must go through vith this?"
"If vill be all right. This is a peaceful meeting," said Hemlock, with more confidence than he felt.
"If this is peaceful meeting, vy does messenger carry sword?" she replied. "Something is not right. I feel it in my vings, something is going to happen, something bad."
"Hush," said Hemlock sternly. "I vill handle this. Now, escort the emissary inside and let us be done vith this."
Poplar bobbed her head in a nervous nod and scuttled out of the room. A few of the commanders shifted uneasily. A moment later, there was a sound of a door opening, and then a scuffle as Goldar marched inside, shoving Poplar roughly out of the aside. She chirped agitatedly and fled. The monster stepped into the council room, seeming to fill it with his presence, leaving nothing for the eye to see but golden armor and black feathers and red eyes and white teeth. The carried a brutal-looking sword slung casually over one of his plated shoulders. In the other hand was an incongrously harmless- looking bundle of parchment tied with red ribbon.
"Are you Lord Zedd's emissary?" asked Hemlock.
Goldar nodded and thrust the roll of paper toward the wizard. "Sign the treaty, old bird, and get this over with."
"Not until I read it," said Hemlock coolly.
"Are you saying Lord Zedd can't be trusted?" Goldar asked dangerously.
Hemlock gave him a hard look. "It is only prudent. The terms of our agreement vere not clearly stated. I vould hate for any misunderstandings to occur."
"Read it, then, and make it quick."
"I am amazed that His Majesty chose you as an emissary. You have no manners," said Hemlock. He took the scroll, unrolled it, and began to read aloud. " 'I, the undersigned, do hereby agree to forfeit any and all claims to the Crystal of All Times, and do furthermore rrrenounce any and all claims to the leadership of the vorld of Tien, and cede said rrrights to His Majesty, Lord Zeddd, Emperor of Evil, and svear eterrrnal fealty to said monarch.' Vat is all this?" he demanded angrily.
"This is the treaty you will sign," said Goldar. "Are you going to do it voluntarily, or do you need soe encouragement?" He raised his sword menacingly.
"But - but your lord gave his vord of honor that this vould be a trrreaty of peace!" spluttered Hemlock in outrage.
"Ha! You foolish old buzzard! Lord Zedd has no honor! The only time this planet will see an end to fighting is when it belongs to him. Now, sign the paper!"
"Therrre vill be no peace vile ve are rrruled by a tyrant," said Hemlock. "Do vat you vill. I vill never sign this paper."
In a move too fast to follow, Goldar swung his sword at the wizard, burying its blade in his side. There was a wet crunching sound, and blood spilled on the stone floor. Hemlock staggered backwards, gasping in pain.
"Take that, you mangy crow!" Goldar sneered.
In the next instant, several of the commanders leaped at the monster, trying to avenge their leader - but what could they do? They had come for a peace talk, and they were unarmored and unarmed, while their adversary was plated from head to foot and carrying a lethal weapon.
Hemlock, his head reeling with pain, reached for the Crystal at his throat, preparing to call forth magic that would blow his assassin to oblivion. He might die of this wound, but he would at least take the monster with him. His wingtip touched the hollow of his throat where the gem should have rested, but it was gone! Where was it? Belatedly, he remembered: he had loaned it to Cedar so she could travel to Eugene's time, and he had forgotten to take it back. Cedar had the Crystal, and Zedd wanted it. He would stop at nothing to get it. She and Eugene would be in danger. Out of the corner of his rapidly darkening vision, Hemlock saw his soldiers fleeing for their lives. Then, his mind slipped into blackness.
Meanwhile, unaware of the tragedy that had occurred in her own home, Cedar had been leading her friend through her city, showing him the sights. It was a thriving metropolis, the capital city, but it still managed to give the impression of small-town comfort, perhaps because Skull was used to gleaming steel and glass full of sharp angles. Everything in this city was made of chalky grey-white stone whose corners had long ago been rounded into gentle curves. The upstairs rooms of every home and office had wide windows to provide easy entrances and exits for flying visitors. Small, prickly trees with deep green needles grew along the streets, providing welcome shade. Instead of being paved, all the roads were covered in soft golden sand - just as well, because most of the city's inhabitants preferred to go barefoot.
More interesting than the architecture were the people. Skull was amazed at the assortment - even the motley crowd found in a city on his own planet couldn't match the Aerials for variety. Some appeared to be as human as he was (though some of the people of Earth had sometimes wondered if he was completely human, anyway) while others were thoroughly birdlike, and the rest came in every possible mix of the two extremes. Cedar explained that, though all Aerials could shift from one shape to another at will, most of them found that one shape felt most comfortable for them, and they kept it most of the time. Also, the younger the Aerial was, the easier the transformation would be. The young fledglings that played in the streets changed back and forth in a kaleidoscopic fashion.
The Aerials varied in other ways, too. The people came in every color and bird-shape imaginable. There were hawks, sparrows, ducks, swans, woodpeckers, herons, and other exotic varieties. There were blacks, browns, greys, golds, whites, peacock blues, parrot greens, cardinal reds, and even a few of the pale pink-and-golds of Cedar's type. Some wore clothing as simple as Cedar's, some garbed themselves with colors and designs so elaborate that they looked like gypsies or jesters, and the most avian wore nothing but their feathers. They all seemed to be bilingual, speaking both a kind of broken English that they called the Common Tongue and a high-pitched, rapid-fire, birdlike chatter.
After he had seen the outer parts of town, Skull was led by his eager guide to the heart of the city, the marketplace. The amount of noise and the number of people quadrupled. Everywhere, there were tents in patterns as varied as the people themselves, and everything imaginable could be bought, sold, or traded beneath those patterns of stripes and checks. Light flashed from weapons, jewelry, glass and metalware, dazzling the eye. Sounds bombarded the ear: talking people, shouting merchants, the clinking of chains and coins, the flapping of wings and flags in the wind, and the exotic melodies of performing singers and musicians. The air was full of the scents of perfumes and cooking food.
"Wow!" Skull enthused. "This is better than a mall!"
Cedar looked puzzled. "What's a mall?"
"Um, well . . . it's kind of like this, only not so big . . . and indoors."
They made their way through the marketplace at a leisurely pace. They saw no reason to be in a hurry, and everything deserved to be admired. Besides, Cedar seemed to be well-known, and she paused often to chat with friends. Since these exchanges were often carried out in Tienese, they were not of any particular interest to Skull, and he found his mind and gaze wandering to other things. It was during one of these pauses that his attention was captured by a multicolored glint of light, and he made his way curiously to what proved to be the stall of a jewelry vendor.
The glint of light had come from a necklace, set prominently on display against a foil of purple velvet, like a royal crown. The pendant was a heavy piece of rough-hewn yet highly polished piece of silver crafted into the shape of a bird with outstretched wings, fierce talons, and a murderous beak. Its wings, tail, and crest had been carefully enameled in bright rainbow colors that flashed in the sunlight. It hung from a rope of rough black leather, around which spiraled a thin silver wire, as if tiny bolts of lightning or silver flames were shooting away from the bird. This was no dainty lady's necklace; this was a rugged and almost brutal piece of jewelry, like something a knight in armor would wear as a charm against evil. Skull wasn't sure what he would do with it if he had it, but he wanted it as soon as he laid eyes on it.
"You like that?" inquired the vendor. "Real silver. Hand painted. Best quality. Make you good offer."
Skull was crestfallen. "Sorry. I don't have any money."
"Eugene? Eugene, where are you?" That was Cedar's voice, drifting worriedly through the crowd noises.
"I'm over here!" Skull called back. "Come see what I found!"
Cedar appeared at his side and appraised his find. "Nice. You want that? I'll buy it for you."
"Aw, I can't ask you to do that," said Skull. As much as he would have liked to accept the gift, he had a feeling that the necklace was probably expensive, more than he would want to impose upon his friend.
Cedar, however, was not dissuaded. "Should take it. Can see you want it." She turned to the vendor. "How much cost?"
"For you, Miss Cedar, I ask ten azures only."
"Seven and half," Cedar replied, and the battle was on. Skull listened in amazement as the vendor and Cedar engaged in a contest of bargaining, chattering in their high-speed bird speech. Cedar finally managed to talk the salesman down to eight and three-quarter azures. Out of one pocket of her dress, she removed a number of round, colored stones the size of peas and handed them over to the vendor. He gave her the necklace, which she, in turn, gave to Skull.
"Here," she said. "Should keep this. Is good magic."
"Magic?" Skull replied uncertainly. The necklace was impressive, but he hadn't thought it was magic.
Cedar shrugged. "Is what my father says, and he should know. Keep part of something, and it becomes part of you. Keep part of my planet, and you will never really leave it. You keep the necklace, you will come back someday."
Skull wondered if he ought to tell her he was still carrying one of her feathers, and decided not to mention it. Instead, he put the necklace over his head, and it got snagged on his ears. Cedar giggled at him and helped him to remove it and put it on straight. Once he got it in place, however, the metal bird hung over his heart as if it belonged there. It felt RIGHT, like a piece of a puzzle being snapped into place.
"Thanks," he said. "Thanks a lot."
"Do you know what that bird is?" asked Cedar. Skull shook his head, and Cedar answered, "His name is Fenikus, the Firebird. He is one of our legends. They say the first Aerials were born when Firebird took a human wife. Say also that he watches over Tien, and he will rescue his children in times of danger. We still have a festival for him every year."
"How come he didn't keep this Zedd guy from attacking your planet?" Skull asked.
Cedar shrugged. "Who can guess why Firebird does what he does? Some people do not believe in Firebird because of this. Others say is dead. Some say he was lured to the dark side by a beautiful sorceress. Some say he was put under evil enchantment. No one knows sure."
"Well, I still like this necklace," said Skull, running his fingers over the metal bird's glistening, bristling feathers. "Wish I could buy you something . . . What's that?"
From somewhere behind them came a sound of shrieks and screams. Something was causing total pandemonium that could be heard even over the marketplace hubbub. While Skull was still standing there wondering what to do, Cedar grabbed his arm and began dragging him down the street, TOWARD the noise. Then, as whatever was causing the ruckus drew nearer, she ducked down an alleyway and hid behind a water barrel with Skull following closely. From this shelter, they were able to witness a spectacle that was not that unfamiliar to the Earthly teen: a winged primate plated in golden armor accompanied by a dozen or so pale grey clay people. Aerials ran screaming from the monsters in panic.
"That's Goldar and the Putty Patrol," whispered Skull.
Cedar looked surprised. "How you know that?"
"They used to attack Angel Grove all the time . . . I mean, they're going to," answered Skull. He decided to omit mentioning the fact that Goldar had also spent a few weeks living in his closet, which would have led to questions he would have liked to have answers to himself. "But the Power Rangers are going to chase them away. Uh . . . you don't suppose the Power Rangers are gonna show up here, do you?"
"Goldar is one of Lord Zedd's servants," said Cedar. "Zedd was supposed to send an emissary to deliver the peace treaty."
"He doesn't look very peaceful to me," Skull replied.
"I have bad feeling about this," Cedar said worriedly. "Come! We've got to get back to Papa and Mama!"
And they did, fast. Skull may not have been good at much, but after years of practice, he was very good at running away from monsters. His long legs carried him through the streets and back alleys so quickly that Cedar had to sprout wings to keep up. Soon they arrived at Cedar's house and found the front door open and the premises very quiet. Fearfully, they went inside.
"Hello?" Skull called uncertainly. He was answered by a low moan of pain.
"Father!" Cedar shrieked, and she raced to the parlor, followed closely by Skull. They found Hemlock slumped against the wall, next to a slowly enlarging red puddle. Cedar wailed in horror and rushed to kneel beside him.
"Cedar . . ." he whispered. "The treaty . . . it was a lie. The Crystal . . ." The effort of speaking was too much for him, and he blacked out again. Cedar began to sob.
"This stupid rock," she said angrily, gripping the Crystal of All Times. "If it veren't for this thing, none of this vould be happening. This thing is cursed." She jerked the stone, and the fragile chain snapped. She threw it to Skull. "Destroy this, so it vill cause no more damage."
Skull stood a moment, staring at the stone, and then at the scene in front of him. Listening to Cedar's anguished chirping sobs - such a small and helpless sound - a wave of anger swept over him that was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It wasn't fair! Cedar and Hemlock were good and unselfish people. They didn't deserve to suffer like this, especially not at the hands of a power-hungry warlord and his monsters. All the Aerials wanted was to be left in peace. Why did this Lord Zedd person have to persist in tormenting them? If Zedd had been in the room at that moment, Skull would have found the strength and courage to teach him a lesson. With a wordless cry of rage and despair, Skull pitched the Crystal at the wall, and it split in two with a loud SNAP!
Chaos broke loose. Winds, fire, lighting, earthquake . . . hundreds of things seemed to be happening at once. Then, everything seemed to coalesce into a single ball of glowing flame that slowly grew brighter and began to take on a definite shape. It hung in midair, shifting slowly like a developing photograph, and then it suddenly snapped into focus.
It was a bird, a bird of pure fire, burning whiter than the moon and stars, brightly as midday sunlight on new-fallen snow. Its wings, tail, and crest, however, were in vivid flaming colors - not just red and yellow, but an entire spectrum of shimmering rainbow light. Its eyes were flaming blue-green, at once hypnotic and difficult to look directly into, so that you kept wanting to glance at them out of the corner of your eye. It was so bright, it seemed to steal the colors of the room, the furniture and paintingns, Skull's bright punk clothing, and Cedar's shining hair and render the world into a grey-and- white pencil sketch. It did not move at all, but simply hovered, suspended in midair with its radiant wings outstretched. Skull's jaw dropped in amazement, and even Cedar was shocked out of her grief.
"Gracious glory," she whispered.
"Yes, I am, aren't I?" the bird replied in a musical male voice. He turned his head this way and that to show off his profiles.
"Hey!" Skull exclaimed in sudden realization. "You're the bird on my necklace!"
"Indeed. I am Fenikus, the Firebird," the bird answered. "Who was it that shattered the stone?"
"Um, um, uh . . ." Skull stammered. He had heard stories about spirits who would grant great rewards to the people who freed them from imprisonment . . . but he had also heard of those who would strike a man dead for disturbing their rest.
"It vas him," said Cedar, pointing to Skull.
"Ah. I see. I might have guessed," Firebird replied. "You are not an Aerial. What is your name, human?"
"Skull . . . uh, I mean, Eugene Skullovitch."
"Well, Eugene Skullovitch, I am indebted to you," said the Firebird. He seemed to consider a moment before saying offhandedly, "I could grant you three wishes, if you like. I believe that is the usual payment for such things."
"Can you heal him?" asked Skull, pointing at Hemlock.
The Firebird looked a bit surprised. "If that's really what you want to spend a wish on." He nodded in Hemlock's direction, and a pure white flame seemed to spring to life above his heart. It grew and spread in colored rings: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet, and then white again. As the rings of fire spread over him, his wound closed up, and he seemed to breathe more easily. Even the spilled blood on the floor was washed away by the sweeping flames. After a moment, the fires died away. The Firebird looked pleased.
"Sleeping peacefully," he announced. "He'll wake up good as new in an hour or so. Now," he said, turning back to Skull, "isn't there something you want for yourself? Fame? Riches? Power? The love of a beautiful lady, perhaps? It would be easy enough to do. Ask what you like, and you shall have it."
The phrase, "rich and famous", Bulk's mantra, wandered through Skull's mind, but he dismissed it instantly. That wasn't what he really wanted at the moment. As long as Lord Zedd had his sights set on Tien, scenes like what had just occurred would keep on playing themselves out. He had been thinking just a moment ago that he would have given anything to put a stop to it, and now he had a chance to do just that.
"I wish . . . I wish somebody would protect this planet, so nobody else will get hurt," Skull blurted.
Firebird eyed him with curiosity. "Well," he said, and then, "Well, well, well. This is an interesting wish with all kinds of interesting possibilities. Do you care HOW I do it, or do you just want it done?"
"Yeah . . . whatever," said Skull with a shrug.
"Fine," said Firebird. "Hold still."
The next thing Skull knew, his vision was full of colors, as the rings of flame engulfed him, warm but not painful and soft as a feather's touch. The lights moved around uncertainly before finally settling on the likeness of the Firebird he wore. Skull looked at the Firebird in surprise; the being of flame wore and expression that could only be interpreted as smug.
"Not too bad. Not too bad at all," said Firebird. "It's been a while since I've tried that, but I'm sure it worked. Fairly sure."
"What'd you do?" asked Skull apprehensively.
"I gave you a Power," Firebird said. "Just a little one, of course - mortals can only handle but so much - but enough to suffice. You, Eugene Skullovitch, have been given the powers of the Dark Falcon. Now you can get rid of the monsters and keep your friends safe. That ought to make you happy."
"I don't know how to fight monsters!" Skull protested. "I don't want to be a hero!"
"You should be careful what you wish for, then," Firebird replied. "Besides, I think you'll find that you know more than you think you do," he added, winking.
"But . . . but I can't!" stammered Skull. "Not all by myself!"
"I see," the Firebird answered thoughtfully. "So you would wish for a helper, then?"
"Uh . . ." said Skull, unsure of how to answer and wondering if there was any way at all that he could get out of the situation. The Firebird ignored him, turning his radiant gaze from the hapless teenager to the still-stunned Cedar.
"Young lady, what is your name?" he asked.
"Cedar Wind," she answered.
"How would you like to assist your friend, miss Cedar Wind?"
Cedar's amber eyes were cold and determined. "I vill do vatever I can to save my planet."
"Very well, then. Would you retrieve the necklace for me?"
Cedar shrugged, got up, and collected the broken pieces of the amulet. She held them up for the Firebird's inspection. As he stared at them, a flash of light rippled over the shards of stone. Suddenly, there were two necklaces instead of one, perfectly identical.
"You may give one to your father and keep the other," Firebird said. "With your new Crystal's power, you will be able to assist the Dark Falcon in battle."
"How? How do I use it?" asked Cedar.
"Both charms work the same way. Just touch them and speak my name, Firebird. That will give you access to the Power," Firebird explained. He turned his attention back to Skull. "Well, that is the end of your wishes. I personally think you could have done better, but as long as you're happy, I suppose it's all right."
Skull wanted to say that he was not happy and it was definitely not all right, but he wasn't quite sure how to communicate that message to the glowing bird.
"Well, I must be off," said the Firebird. "I have been out of circulation for a long time, and the Higher Realms have been deprived of my splendor for too long. Still, you are an interesting human, Eugene Skullovitch, and I believe I will probably check in on you again when I get bored. Have fun saving the world."
The Firebird seemed to suddenly cave in on himself, rapidly shrinking like the image of a television being turned off, and he vanished in a blink of colored light. Skull and Cedar were quiet a moment, staring at the place where he had been.
"Firebird," said Cedar softly. "He's real. Ve really saw the Firebird."
"Do you really think he meant what he said?" asked Skull, touching the pendant of his necklace carefully, as if it might bite. "I mean, about us saving the world."
"Vell, ve have to do something," said Cedar. She tucked one of the amber necklaces under the wing of her sleeping father, and then put the other around her neck.
"But I don't want to be a hero!" Skull insisted. "I can't! I don't know how!"
"You can start by doing vat you can," said Cedar sternly. In a gentler tone, she added, "Besides, I vill be helping you. You don't have to be afraid."
Skull sighed. No matter what Cedar said, he was afraid, very afraid. And yet . . . and yet he had been afraid of heights before Cedar had taught him to fly. Perhaps he could learn this, too. Hesitantly, he touched the silver pendant and whispered, "Firebird."
He felt the effect instantly, as the Firebird's colored flames crept out of the pendant and up his hand. They felt like wind and fire, wild forces with the power to take him apart and rebuild him their way, and yet he knew as soon as he felt it that this same Power would obey him as much as he had to obey it. Skull cried out in surprise and pulled his hand away as if he'd been stung.
"Vat's wrong?" asked Cedar.
Skull shook his head. "I'm not the right person to do this. It ought to be someone better than me. I'm no hero. I've never done anything without messing it up."
"Don't be so hard on yourself," said Cedar. "Listen to me. I vill tell you something. My father is leader of my people, and I have seen many great men come to speak vith him. I have met many heroes, enough to know vat they are. Heroes are only ordinary men vith good hearts. You are as vorthy to be hero as anyvone else."
"You think so?" asked Skull.
"Know so," Cedar replied. "Firebird vould have given you anything you vanted, but you did not ask for anything for yourself. You vished to save my people and my vorld. To help people is vat all heroes vish for."
"Well, if you say so." Skull gripped the Firebird emblem with both hands. "Firebird!"
The colored flames washed over him in a rush, as if determined to do their work before he could change his mind again. For a moment, he was blinded by lights, and then . . .
Skull examined his new form. The first thing that caught his attention was that his clothes had changes. He was now wearing a jet black suit, like something a Power Ranger might wear, and it was patterned all over in red elliptical designs, like feathers. He was also wearing boots and gloves of royal purple, both decorated with a row of the red feather designs. A gold belt adorned with a feather-shaped buckle held a holster with a red laser pistol. He seemed to also be equipped with a purple backpack, but he couldn't turn his head around far enough to get a good look at it. He could, however, glance at his reflection in a mirror in the hall, noting more changes. The upper half of his face was covered by a purple mask. That wouldn't have been enough to hide his identity on its own, but it seemed that his face had changed in subtle ways as well. It looked somehow harder and sterner, more determined. His long, dark hair had been changed into something that more closely resembled and Aerial's crest feathers, black shot through with red and purple. He doubted anyone would recognize him. Other than the outer changes, however, he didn't feel much different, except maybe a little more alert, more energized. He also seemed to be suffering from a faint mental itch, the kind of feeling he sometimes had when he woke up in the morning knowing that something unpleasant was going to happen but he hadn't quite remembered yet that there would be a test that day that he hadn't studied for.
"The monster's still out there," he said, sounding a bit puzzled. "I can feel it, sort of."
"Maybe you should go stop it now," Cedar prompted.
Skull shook his head. "You mean, WE should stop it. You're supposed to help, remember?"
"Rrright," Cedar trilled. "Firebird!"
The fires played around her, bending her to their will for an instant. In a burst of intense light, she shifted to a fully avian form - not the shape of a songbird, the form she usually wore, but a flaming eagle like the Firebird, though she was still pink and gold where he had been painted in spectrum colors. Without a word, she swooped out the window. Skull followed by a more conventional route, through the front door. Cedar perched on his shoulders.
"Ready to fly?" she asked.
Skull gave a half-shrug. "Up, up, and away."
They went up, flying swiftly and silently, following that strange homing instinct that told them that there was danger nearby. Soon, they struck a trail of destruction left by the monsters. They finally found them at a far corner of the city, systematically destroying everything in sight. Cedar and Skull dropped right into the middle of the ruckus and waited for someone to notice them.
"You get the wing-thing," Cedar whispered. "I'll take the clay-men."
"Huh?" said Skull. Him, fighting Goldar? He wasn't at all sure he liked that plan.
Instead of answering, Cedar pumped her wings and rose into the air with an eagle's battle cry. As the monsters paused in their demolishing, she dove at the nearest group of Putties, leaving Skull alone and face to face with Goldar.
"Well?" Goldar inquired. "Who do you think you are?"
Skull wasn't exactly sure at the moment, but he was surprised to hear his own voice answer, "I am the Dark Falcon!"
"Dark Falcon, huh?" said Goldar derisively, eyeing Skull's brightly colored garb. "You have got to be the stupidest looking hero I've ever seen!"
"Uh, well . . ." stammered Skull. He had never been good at coming up with clever retorts under pressure - or at any other time, for that matter. It had always been so much easier to just emphasize what Bulk said . . .
"What? No snappy comeback?" Goldar asked.
"I'm thinking, I'm thinking! Gimme a minute, will ya?"
Goldar gave a contemptuous snort. "You are pathetic!"
"Well, I'm new at this, okay?" Skull replied.
"Oh, are you? Well, you aren't going to live to be old at it!"
The monster charged at Skull, who stood rooted to the spot in terror. As it turned out, that was probably the best thing he could have done. Just as it seemed like Skull was about to meet the same fate as Hemlock (and without a Firebird around to save him), he was amazed to see his hands come up of their own accord and cleverly parry the sword thrust aside to deliver a sharp chop to the monster's wrist that nearly made him drop his weapon. With the split second that Goldar spent recovering from that unexpected maneuver, Skull took the opportunity to kick him as hard has he could in the gut, making him grunt and stagger backwards a couple of paces. It seemed that Skull's hands and feet knew more about being a hero than his brain did! While part of his mind was still reeling in shock and confusion, the part that now seemed to be in charge noticed that he had an advantage, and he used it, delivering a few more punches and finishing with the flashy roundhouse kick that he had always wanted to be able to do. Goldar stumbled against a wall and fell, and Skull grinned in spite of himself.
"Yeah! Take that! Guess I'm not so pathetic after all, huh?"
Goldar wrestled his wings back into place and scrambled to his feet. "You fight better than you talk, I'll say that much, but let's see you handle this!"
The monster covered his eyes briefly with one hand, and when he removed it, fiery laser beams shot from them. Skull yelped and dove out of the way, but Goldar continued his barrage of fire-bolts.
*Gotta find a place to hide,* Skull thought desperately. Unfortunately, there weren't too many hiding places in the middle of the street, and Goldar wasn't letting him get near the safety of the stone buildings. Unless he could somehow stop the monster from shooting at him, he was going to have to keep dodging until his strength ran out, and that would be the end of him. Already, his energy was beginning to flag. He had been doing a lot of running around that day already, and he wasn't used to this kind of athletic activity. He was beginning to move more slowly and clumsily as the initial energy-boost of transforming wore off. There was a sizzle-thump as one of the fire-bolts struck his back - but, surprisingly, it he didn't feel any pain. Skull's backpack had taken the hit for him . . . which made him wonder what exactly was the little sack carried. He reached back and discovered . . . handles? Without thinking, he grabbed and pulled.
Whoosh! Two large, batlike wings popped out of the pack with a sound like a very large umbrella being opened. They were bright purple and marked with more red feather patterns, and they were made of some kind of stiff but flexible plastic, with handles so that he could control their movements. Skull folded them around himself like a small tent. Goldar continued firing on him, but his fire-blasts had no effect on Skull's apparently flimsy shelter. Still, it would only be a few seconds before the monster gave up his long distance attack and decided to try a more direct approach. In those few seconds, Skull was going to have to think of something to turn the odds back in his favor, but what?
*Come on, stupid! You've got a laser, too! Why don't you use it?*
He reached for his pistol and studied it. Not surprisingly, it was in the shape of a bird, with its tail forming the handle and its wings folded around the barrel. There was also a little red button in the middle of its back.
*Wonder what that does?* he thought. *Well, guess I'll find out. Here goes nothing!*
Meanwhile, Goldar was marching forward with his sword raised, preparing to cut through Skull's defenses. He was caught completely off guard as Skull abruptly unfolded his wings and revealed his new weapon aimed at the monster's heart.
"Phoenix Phaser!" he shouted.
Pulses of rainbow light flashed through the air, throwing Goldar off his feet and into a heap of rubble, where he lay dazed.
Skull didn't get long to celebrate, however, before his attention was caught by the sound of an avian scream. While Skull had been busy dealing with Goldar, Cedar had been doing her part by trying to tackle the Putty Patrol. She had actually managed to destroy a few (not a difficult thing to do when all it took was a blow to the "Z" medallion), but she was still badly outnumbered. The remaining Putties had mobbed her, and, despite her slashing talons and beak, had dragged her to the ground. Without the advantage of flight on her side, she was taking a brutal beating.
"Hang on! I'm coming!" Skull shouted.
He dove into the fray, holding up one wing as a shield while he blasted the Putties with his laser. The clay creatures dispersed in panic and confusion as the burning lights struck them. Skull rushed to Cedar's side.
"Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.
"Look out!" she screamed.
"Huh? Ow!" While Skull had been distracted, Goldar had taken the opportunity to collect himself and make a sneak attack, literally stabbing Skull in the back - or trying to. Evidently, whatever the Dark Falcon's suit was made of, it was tougher than it looked. While Skull felt a stinging pain in his shoulder, he wasn't seriously hurt. Still, the force of the blow and the shock of the injury were enough to send him sprawling on the ground. As Skull lay stunned in the dust, Goldar moved in with his sword raised, ready to split the young man's head like a cantaloupe.
"Aieeeeeeek!" screeched an avian voice.
Goldar was suddenly blinded by flaming feathers as Cedar launched herself in his face, pecking and clawing at his unprotected eyes. The monster roared and began waving erratically at his attacker.
"All right! Way to go!" Skull cheered.
He held up his laser and decided that now would be a good time to see what that tempting red button did. He gave it a determined push with his thumb, and . . . click! Whoosh! The pistol abruptly unfolded itself. The wings flipped out to become the hilt of the sword, and the long blade shot out from beneath the bird's head. It glinted diamond bright in the late afternoon sunshine, throwing off multicolored sparkles.
"Whoa, cool!" Skull enthused. "I always wanted one of these! Better look out, 'cause here I come!"
Goldar took a look at the shining weapon and decided that he didn't feel like having it tested on him. Enough was enough! Lord Zedd hadn't said anything about there being heroes on this planet. This was supposed to be an EASY mission!
"Rrrr! His Majesty is not going to be pleased with this!" he growled threateningly.
"Oh, yeah?" said Skull. "Well, who's going to get in trouble for it, me or you?"
Goldar's only reply to that was a snarl. He made a gesture with his sword, and he vanished in a cloud of flame.
Skull stared in amazement. "I did it! I actually fought a monster! That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be." Despite the fact that his shoulder was still stinging, he felt great. He had actually done something right for once, and he was enjoying his rare taste of victory.
"What do we do now?" asked Cedar.
Skull looked around. Now that the battle was over, frightened citizens were peeking out of windows and through cracks in doors, curiously eyeing the two young heroes.
"I think now would be a good time for an exit," he said.
"You got it," Cedar agreed. She perched on his shoulders and lifted him up so that he could soar away on his purple wings.
"Up, up, and away!" he cheered.
As the duo left, the townspeople gathered in the street to watch them sail away, wondering, "Who was that masked man, anyway?"
Goldar hesitated in the hallway, formulating his approach to the situation at hand. Just beyond the place where he stood was a room containing a scene of evident tranquility, and he was not observant enough to know any different. It was lat afternoon, and the lord of the palace was enjoying the warmth of the sunlight as it streamed through a large window placed in the room for that very purpose. He was reclining languorously amid a nest of purple silk cushions, surrounded by his personal attendants - all of them beautiful young women. One strummed on a harp and sang softly, while two more waved fans to prevent their master from becoming to overheated by the sun's warmth. Another was at his side, hand-feeding him sweets from a golden tray. The others rested nearby in elegant poses, like perfect statues. The lord himself lay with his eyes closed, to all appearances nearly asleep. An observer skilled at reading expressions would have read a different story. The ladies's faces were bereft of any emotion, exhibiting neither adoration for their handsome master nor fear of his power and dangerous temper. They were broken creatures with no wills and no thoughts save to do as the emperor bid them. As for the mage himself, even in his near-dozing state, his face showed no sign of contentment. Rather, he seemed to be thinking, *This is just the beginning of what I mean to have.* Goldar, unfortunately, was not skilled at reading human emotions, and he perceived only that his master seemed to be in a good mood. Perhaps Lord Zedd would not be too harsh with him. He stepped into the room and cleared his throat.
"Um . . . Your Majesty?" he said hesitantly.
The peace of the room was shattered. The harpist lost her place in the song and fell silent. The other servants froze. One of the emperor's fiery red eyes opened a slit.
"What is it?" he demanded. "Can't you see I'm busy?"
"It's about the attack on Tien . . ."
The eye opened the rest of the way. It did not look happy. "So? Did they surrender, or did you destroy them?"
"Well, you see, I tried, but . . ."
"Tried?" The other eye was open now; the situation was getting dangerous. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't that imply that you failed your assignment?"
"I'm sorry, Lord Zedd, but-"
Like a rattlesnake striking, Zedd sprang from his resting place and launched himself at the hapless lackey, brandishing his lighting bolt staff. Goldar was knocked to the floor and lay staring helplessly into the cruel red eyes of his ruler. Zedd pressed the sharp tip of his staff against the monster's throat. All it would take would be a little more pressure to put an end to him.
"You have five seconds," said Lord Zedd, "to explain to me exactly how it is you cold foul up something so ridiculously simple."
"There was a hero," said Goldar. "He called himself the Dark Falcon."
"Dark Falcon, hm?" Zedd said thoughtfully. "Well, this complicates things. I need the Crystal of All Times! I am the only one worthy to use its powers, not some overgrown pigeon. I will find a way to be rid of this Dark Falcon." He stepped away from Goldar, and the monster breathed a sigh of relief. "Send someone to keep an eye on him. I will have Tien and the Crystal. It is only a matter of time."
Cedar dropped Skull unobtrusively on the flat roof of her house and perched lightly on its stone railing.
"That was kind of fun," said Skull, "and kind of not fun. I don't know if I want to do it again or not." He winced and rubbed his sore shoulder.
"Me neither," answered Cedar. "So, what do we do now?"
"I don't know," said Skull. "That crazy Firebird only told us how to change. He didn't say anything about how to change back."
Purple and red lights flashed unexpectedly around him. In and instant, he had blinked back to his everyday unassuming self.
"Oh," he said. "I guess that works."
"Just say, 'Change back'?" Cedar inquired. Golden lights flashed around her, and she shifted to her more ordinary songbird form. From there, she moved to her more comfortable half- human shape.
"I guess that's the magic word," said Skull.
"Come," said Cedar. "I vant to see if Father is all rrright."
They followed a flight of stairs from the roof to the lower levels of the house and found Hemlock just as they had left him, sleeping peacefully on the floor. Cedar went and shook his shoulders gently.
"Father! Father, vake up!"
"Cedar?" Hemlock groggily opened his eyes. "Vat happened? I thought I vas . . . that the emissary . . ."
"You missed it all, Father," said Cedar, winking subtly at Skull. "The Firebird appeared and healed you. He had his own varrior, the Dark Falcon, come and drrrive the monsters avay."
"Yeah," Skull agreed. "Ask me. I was there."
"Vell," said Hemlock, getting stiffly to his feet. "I'm sorry I missed the excitement. I vould have liked to see the Firebird."
"I think there vill be more excitement soon," said Cedar gravely. "Lord Zedd vill not be happy his plan failed."
Her ruminations were interrupted as her mother came in.
"Oh! Cedar! Eugene! There you are! I vas so vorried about you two!" she exclaimed. "I thought the monster had gotten you."
"Is all rrright," Cedar assured her. "The Dark Falcon came and saved us."
"Ah, yes. Vat a stroke of good fortune, that he should come to save us," said Poplar.
"Vell, Eugene," said Hemlock. "I can't see how you vould vant to stay now that ve are at var again. If you vish, I vill send you home again now."
"Actually, Father," Cedar chirped, "Eugene vas thinking he vould like to stay a vile longer. Veren't you, Eugene?"
"Uh, yeah," said Skull, taking the hint. "I'm not in a real hurry. I'd kinda like to stay and see the excitement. I could hang around a while longer - if that's all right with you."
"Oh, ya, fine," said Poplar. "There is guestroom upstairs next door to Cedar's room. I could fix it up for you . . . unless you'd rather-"
"The room next door will be just fine," Skull interjected quickly. He didn't know what she was going to suggest, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.
"Come on. I show you the way," Cedar volunteered. She took him by the arm and began leading him away.
"You see?" said Hemlock to Poplar. "I told you. Give them some time, they'll figure things out."
Skull smiled. Maybe someday they'd figure out that Cedar was just a friend . . . or maybe they would turn out to be right after all. Whatever happened, living on Tien was going to be interesting. Terra Venture could wait for him a while longer. In the meantime, this world needed a hero . . . and until it got one, Skull was going to have to do.
The End . . . for now.