Disclaimer: Skull is the property of Saban. Zedd is the property of Saban. This crazy universe is
mine, but I might let Saban use it if they payed me enough. ;-)
Dark Falcon... Replaced?
SilvorMoon
Skull was waking up from a nightmare. He had dreamed he was lost on a cold, dark world
full of angry warriors who would tear him apart as soon as look at him, that his friends had
turned away from him or against him, and that the evil warlord he was sure he'd destroyed was
still alive and waiting to take his vengeance. He had failed in his mission to protect Tien, and
now he was going to die alone on this hostile world, left only with incontrovertible proof that he
was just what everyone had always insisted he was: a failure.
Then he came completely awake and remembered his nightmare was true. He was on the
world of Oryllia - more specifically, lying in the dirt of a back alley, hiding. Zedd was alive on
this world, and fully in control. Skull felt the despair of the previous night gripping at him again -
how could Cedar ever forgive him for failing? How could anybody? He could never go back to
Tien now, knowing that he hadn't been able to live up to his duty as the Dark Falcon, and that
was enough to make him want to go back to crying all over again. If there was one thing his
adventures over the last few days had taught him, it was that Tien was home to him in a way
Earth had never been. His true family was there - wise Hemlock, kindhearted Poplar, and sweet,
beautiful Cedar... Losing her would hurt the most.
People had always said that Skull's brain wasn't the swiftest piece of machinery in the
world, and that was particularly so first thing in the morning. That was how he managed to get so
far along the path of self-pity before it should occur to him to wonder why he was wrapped in
feathers - warm, soft feathers that smelled of cedar wood. He looked around and realized that at
least one part of his nightmare wasn't true, after all.
"Cedar!" he exclaimed.
The lady-bird's amber eyes opened and blinked sleepily. "Good morning, Eugene."
"Cedar, what are you doing here?" he asked.
"Came looking for you," she replied. "Very silly to go to sleep out here, Eugene.
Someone might have found you. This is not best place in universe to be doing silly things." She
sat up and stretched her wings. "Now that we are avake, ve should go. Told Pyrrin ve vould meet
him again today."
"But, but... you aren't mad at me?" asked Skull.
Cedar tilted her head in puzzlement. "Should I be?"
"Well, yeah! I mean, I was supposed to be helping your world. I was supposed to be the
one who destroyed Lord Zedd, and I didn't. Now he's still going to be alive to hurt your people,
and it was my job to keep that from happening. I'm sorry, Cedar. I was supposed to change
everything, just like you said, but I didn't. If you don't want to hang around me anymore, I'll
understand."
"Oh, Eugene," Cedar sighed, "you vorry yourself too much. I liked you before you were
hero, didn't I?"
"Well, yeah, I guess..."
"Then vy should vether or not you make good hero change how much I like you?" asked
Cedar. "You forget, I am hero, too. The Gold Eagle. Do you not like me for not being brave
enough to help you fight Zedd?"
"Of course not!" Skull blurted. "I always like you, Cedar. You were smart not to go with
me. I only went because Firebird tricked me."
"Then don't say you failed. You vent, you did the best you could, you made it home alive.
You did some good, even if it wasn't all the good you vanted to do, so don't vorry! You vorry
too much, Eugene." Seeing her friend looking crestfallen, she added, "But I know you only vorry
because you care. That is vat I like about you, Eugene. You have caring heart."
"Thanks," said Skull. He managed to smile a bit. "So do you."
Cedar smiled back at him. "Is nice of you to say so. Come! Ve have a frrriend vaiting for
us."
"Yeah, that's right. Pyrrin," Skull sighed, scrambling to his feet. "If he doesn't think I'm
crazy for running away like that."
"I knew vy you did it," said Cedar. "Just don't run avay anymorrre. The Dark Falcon and
Gold Eagle are meant to be partners. Ve arrre not supposed to be apart."
"I hope so," said Skull. "I don't like it when we're apart."
"Neither do I," she replied. She shook herself, shifting from half-bird to fully human, and
then made a face. "Much too cold here without feathers."
"Here," said Skull, slipping out of his leather jacket. "You kept me warm all night. Now
it's my turn to help."
The cold Oryllian morning air froze his bare arms, but Skull hardly noticed. His friend's
smile of gratitude made it warm as summer. As they followed the dirty streets back to the home
of their friend Pyrrin, an elderly Oryllian woman peeked out of her window and smiled, thinking
to herself that it was a sign of hope when young lovers could still thrive in the chill of her dark
world.
*****************************************************************
Charla's motto was, "Play all the angles," and her magically lengthened life had given her
ample time to perfect this strategy. She had learned early in life that there were only two options
in life - to take advantage someone or have someone else take advantage of you, and it hadn't
taken long for her to decide that the very best way to get by was to make use of as many people
as possible. Men had done it often enough to her when she was growing up, a rare and beautiful
flower on a harsh world. They had seen her only as a weak and obedient but remarkably lovely
young girl, and they had used their strength and power to take whatever they liked from her.
However, they had never known or cared that she was also highly intelligent. It hadn't taken her
long that there were some things that some men would do anything for, and once that came clear
in her mind, she'd used the knowledge to get her own way. Even now, when much of her
youthful beauty had worn off, the strategy still worked. She was still attractive, and with a
confidence that silently but effectively communicated that any man who came to her embrace
would not go away disappointed.
*Men fool themselves,* she thought, smirking at her reflection in the mirror as
she groomed herself for a new day. *They are so intent on getting what they want from me
that they never stop to think that I could be taking advantage of them at the same time. If they
do realize it, they're still too stupid to care.*
At the moment, she had a grand total of three men on her string, each serving his own
purpose. The most obvious of these was the king himself, Lord Zedd. Officially, she was
supposed to be his mistress (she wasn't foolish enough to get married to anyone again, not even a
king), but that was only a public face. The truth was, the accident had made certain pastimes
difficult at best, due to the amount of power it cost him to remain fully human for any amount of
time. Their relationship was, as she had told the Firebird, an arrangement. She shared her magical
power with him in exchange for a say in the rulership of the planet and any luxuries he could
supply. Very few people ever found out that her quarters were furnished more comfortably than
the king's own.
The second person on her list was the unexpected arrival of the previous night, the
Firebird. She was still not sure she liked the idea of keeping him around, but at least she had
nothing to complain about yet. For now, he seemed willing enough to follow her orders without
complaint, and he was a satisfactory lover as long as he kept his talk to a minimum. Perhaps she
could think of a use for him. If not, well, she'd gotten rid of him once, and he was probably
stupid enough to fall for her tricks again.
Her third companion, however, was her source of real pleasure, not to mention his own
brand of political power. She dreamed of someday seeing him usurp Oryllia's foolish king, but
for now they pretended aloofness... unless, of course, no one was looking.
She met him on her way to the king's courtroom, spotting him lurking behind a pillar in
the main hallway. Casting a glance this way and that to make sure they were alone, she drifted
over to his hiding spot.
"Well, good morning, Thorald," she purred. "How pleasant to see you."
"The pleasure is mine, my lady," the captain of the guard replied, taking her hand to kiss
it. "I'm sorry it's going to have to be cut short today. I have some unhappy news to deliver to His
Majesty, and I don't think it's going to leave me with any spare time for a while."
"News?" asked Charla. "Do tell."
"Well, you aren't going to believe this," said Thorald, "but we saw an Elemental Bird last
night."
"I believe you," said Charla. "I saw him myself."
"Oh, good," Thorald sighed in relief. "If you tell Zedd, he'll believe it. If I tell him, I'm
just as likely to be whipped for lying. It's got all my men in a stir. Half of them refuse to go out
on the streets again. They think it's going to eat them, for crying out loud!"
"Elemental Birds don't eat humans," said Charla disdainfully. "Electrocute them,
perhaps, or burn them to ash, but they're not supposed to eat anything physical, and when they
do, they have better taste than that."
"That's a real comfort," said Thorald sarcastically. "Sorry, darling, I don't mean to snap
at you. I just haven't had a wink of sleep all night for tying to convince the boys that it's safe to
go out on patrols."
"I understand completely," said Charla. "Don't worry about it. I think I can have the
situation well taken care of."
"That's a load off my mind. I know you'll follow through," Thorald replied. "Now, if
you'll excuse me, I'm off to tell His Majesty the bad news. Will you be around tonight?"
"I'll get back to you on that," Charla replied. "If you want your Firebird dealt with, you're
going to have to give me some time to work."
"Firebird?" Thorald repeated. "The bird I saw claimed to be Garudan, the Thunderbird."
"Did he? Hmm, that complicates things," said Charla. "Well, there are still things I can
do. Just leave it all to me, my dear, and everything will work out fine."
"I know it will," Thorald replied. They leaned in close for a kiss, then sprang apart
moments later at the sound of approaching feet.
"See me after you talk to Zedd," Charla whispered. "I may have an idea by then." Then
she made a fluid gesture that made her fade away in a swirl of orange smoke. Thorald bowed to
the place she had been, then continued on his way to the king's throne room.
**********************************************************
Skull and Cedar found Pyrrin waiting for them in the same place they had found him
yesterday, lurking in the shadows of an alleyway. There was very little sunlight reaching the city
today; even now that the sun had come fully up and was beginning to cast off some of the chill,
there was still a haze over everything. The air was hard to breathe, and everything looked grey
and smoggy. Even in such daylight as there was, the leader of the Copper Band would have been
invisible if the pair hadn't known what to look for. Pyrrin stood stock-still, moving only
occasionally, rattling a copper cup full of coins and begging in a weary voice for alms. He looked
up in surprise as his friends approached.
"You made it back," he said. "I wasn't sure what was going to happen after you ran off
last night."
"I was just a little surprised, that's all," Skull mumbled. "Zedd... doesn't exactly like me
very much."
Pyrrin smiled a little. "All the better. Any enemy of Zedd's is a friend of mine. Here, put
these on." He reached in his pocket and pulled out two flattened strips of copper bent into
bracelets, each stamped with a crude image of a spread-winged bird.
"Copper bands," Cedar remarked.
"That's right," Pyrrin replied. "These mark you as one of us. Wherever you go in the city,
if you see someone wearing a band like this, show them your own and tell them I gave these to
you. They'll help you to the ends of their strength. Just don't forget that these bind you to do the
same for any of them."
"We won't," Skull promised, slipping his own bracelet on. "Was that what you wanted to
talk to us about?"
"No, I've got a few more surprises up my sleeve," said Pyrrin. "But the open street is not
the place to talk about it. Come! I'm to go to court today."
"Court?" asked Skull, puzzled.
"Just follow and learn," Pyrrin replied. "And try not to be noticed."
So saying, Pyrrin led his followers through a mazelike series of streets, alleys, and finally
a net of dirt paths that terminated in a tangled field of rocks and broken wood. It looked as if the
place had once held a large building of some sort, but now it was just a heap of rubble. There was
a faint scent of mold here, but at least the haze was thinner here and the air warmer. Skull stared
at the site trying to figure out what it had once been. Scraps of what looked like broken statuary
said it had a grand structure, whatever it was. Big, too - the rubble seemed to go on for miles.
Here and there, colored lights flashed from shards of old stained glass windows. Perhaps this had
been a church of some sort, or...
"The castle of the True King," Pyrrin announced, finishing Skull's thought. "Our real
ruler contented himself to live among his people, not alone on a windy mountaintop. Zedd
wrecked this place when he usurped the throne. What he didn't know was that my ancestor
worked here in the castle, as keeper of the crypts and the cellars, and he knew the underground
like the back of his hand. He established the Copper Band and set up camp below the old castle.
That's where we live now, in a place we call the King's Court."
"Because this is where the king used to live?" asked Cedar as she and Skull followed
Pyrrin over the heaps of stone.
"Much more than that," Pyrrin replied. "Over the years, the maps of the underground
were lost or wore to dust, and all those who knew the secret paths died out. However, we know
that the tunnels go on and on for miles, branching out under the whole city. Legend has it that
somewhere in the underground is where the body of the king is sleeping." He paused, staring off
into nowhere. "Something tells me the time is coming near when we'll find him again."
"Sounds creepy to me," Skull muttered, shivering a little.
"Maybe to you," said Pyrrin, setting off again, "but not to us. When the Storm Raven
awakens, we'll have a proper protector again, one who can get rid of Zedd once and for all."
Cedar laid a comforting hand on Skull's arm as she saw something dangerous flash in his
eyes.
"Here we are!" Pyrrin announced. "Home sweet home!"
He was standing before a battered old metal door, black and tarnished now, inlaid with
coils and loops of green that had once been polished copper. Pyrrin took an old-fashioned key
with a long barrel and elaborately decorated top, swung one of the green plates out of the way to
reveal a hidden keyhole. Surprisingly, the key slid into the hole with ease, and the massive door
swung open without a sound. Skull and Cedar stared uncertainly down the deep black hole that
opened up before them.
"Sorry it's so dark," said Pyrrin, "but lighted torches are a fair guarantee that someone is
home, and we don't need anyone knowing we're here. Don't worry; it gets better the further you
go."
They went in, and the door was pulled shut behind them, leaving them in total blackness.
There was a rasping sound, and then a torch came alive in Pyrrin's hand. The inside of the cavern
was built like the entrance to a mine, with lumpy masses of rock jutting from the wall and a
ceiling supported by beams of heavy timber. Skull eyed the supports with distrust; they looked as
if they were only standing up out of habit.
"This kinda reminds me of a movie I saw once," he said. "The Disney one about the
hunchback."
"What's a movie?" asked Pyrrin.
"What's Disney?" asked Cedar.
"Aw, forget it," Skull replied. "I don't think I could explain it, anyway."
"If you say so," said Pyrrin. "Anyway, now that we're down here, I can talk a little more
freely. The King's Court, as I've said, is the secret headquarters of the Copper Band. This is
where we mete out justice, both to our own and to any members of the Hand we happen to
capture. We also use it as a safe hiding place - not just for when we don't want to be found, but
for our supplies and for those few refugees from Zedd that we deem safe to let in on our secret.
It's one of these people I'm taking you to see. His name is Prospero. He's our wise man. Very,
very old, older than Zedd himself. He remembers back to the days when the True King reigned...
You two are Aerials, aren't you?" he asked, surprising them by the change of subject.
"I am," said Cedar proudly. "My friend was not born on Tien, but... he's close enough."
"I thought it was something like that," Pyrrin replied. He was leading them down a fork in
the corridor, past dark voids that apparently led to other parts of the complex. "There used to be
Aerials on Oryllia, too. Zedd hates even the thought of Aerials, though, or at least that's what
I've heard, so once he settled himself here, he exterminated every one he could find. We
managed to rescue a few, those who could stand never using their wings properly again. Now
there's just Prospero."
"So he's an Aerial?" asked Skull. It might have been a silly question, but he was
interested. It surprised him how much he'd missed seeing people with beaks and feathers.
Pyrrin nodded. "When I found out that there were Aerials on Oryllia again, I sent a
messenger back here to ask him to stay up and meet you. It's past his bedtime, now, but I don't
think he'll care. He's a night owl, but he'd rather talk than anything else, I think. You'll like
him."
"I'm sure I will," Skull agreed.
They walked deeper and deeper into the complex, following a twisting path that looped in
all directions like the tunnel of a worm. Cedar was fidgety, distrusting the impenetrable darkness
and claustrophobic spaces, and she kept close to Skull. He was just wondering whether it would
be all right to put his arm around her (something that had gotten him slapped a few times before
by other girls) when he was saved from making a decision by Pyrrin calling a halt next to a
splintery wooden door. Pyrrin rapped on it loudly.
"Prospero!" he called. "I've got some visitors for you."
There was a rustling and bumping on the other side of the door. Then it popped open like
the lid of a jack-in-the-box, making Pyrrin jump backwards and nearly drop the torch. A
feathered white head poked out of the opening, surveying his guests with round golden eyes.
"Whoo! 'Tis too late for guests," he hooted. "Go away."
"But Prospero," said Pyrrin calmly, "you said you wanted to talk to them earlier."
"Wasn't bed time earlier," said Prospero. "Whoo! Too late. Go away."
"These are Aerials," Pyrrin replied. "All the way from Tien. When was the last time you
got to talk to a real Aerial, hmm?"
Prospero looked at the visitors skeptically, and then stepped out into the hallway. He was
shorter than either Skull or Cedar, but not bent or frail-looking. Rather, his hooked beak, piercing
eyes, and the horn-like tufts of feathers on the top of his head gave him a countenance that was
almost fierce. His broad white wings protruded from the frayed sleeves of a battered brown robe.
He looked, Skull thought, like a feathered version of a monk or a mountaintop guru. He was not
in the least surprised that the Band had chosen this owl Aerial as their wise man.
"Whoo!" said Prospero again, looking Skull over. "Shrileecht, you are."
"Come again?" asked Skull.
Cedar gave the owl a puzzled look. "How did you know his name?"
"Name?" Skull repeated. "Cedar, what are you talking about. I never even heard that
word before."
"Shrileecht," Cedar replied. "It is a Tienese word. It means, 'the skull.'"
"Yes, yes!" said Prospero gleefully. "Old bird still knows a Son of the Skull when he sees
one. Been a long time, you betcha, but Prospero knows." He looked back at Skull, squinting
thoughtfully, and then flicked the young man's beaky nose with his long, dusty pinfeather. Skull
resisted the urge to sneeze.
"You," said Prospero, "have a nose like a hawk. Eyes like a hawk, too," he added,
brushing his wingtip across Skull's forehead. "Just like Aspen did, all many years back. You both
come in and have breakfast, yes?"
Skull felt his mouth water at the mention of breakfast. When had he last eaten? Not since
those sandwiches on Terra Venture, and now he was acutely aware that he was almost painfully
hungry.
"Great idea," he said. "You hungry too, Cedar."
"Bird always hungry," she answered with a smile.
"Whoo! All birds will come in and eat," said Prospero. "Humans will go away. Goodbye,
Pyrrin. Guests will be fine without you. This is talk for Aerials only."
"As you wish," said Pyrrin, bowing slightly to his elder. "You all have fun. I'll be back in
a few minutes to check on you all."
Prospero stretched one of his great white wings around his guests and herded them
through his open door. Inside, they found a dusty old room full of rickety furniture, every surface
covered in dust, spiderwebs, fragments of shed feathers, and old books. Lots and lots of books,
papers, scrolls, and writing utensils cluttered not only the desk and table, but the floor and all the
chairs as well. Prospero picked a few books off of the nearest chairs and the table, setting them
all on the floor next to an ornamental pot full of colored mushrooms. Then he went to a shelf to
take down bread and cheese and bottles of water for his guests.
"Sit. Eat," he instructed. "Old Prospero ate dinner already, so you two will eat and he will
talk. Good?"
"Fine," said Skull, dropping into a padded chair. Dust flew up in a greyish cloud. At least
the food looked fresh, and he and his partner started on it with relish.
"Been long time since there were Aerials on Oryllia," said Prospero wistufully. "Not been
any since Aspen died. He was the last to hold out. Aspen was Prospero's friend, you know."
"That is second time you've mentioned Aspen," said Cedar. "Who was he? You talk like
we should know who he is."
Prospero shook his head. "Whoo! Sorry. Old Prospero talks to himself so much he forgets
you don't know what he knows. Aspen Truebird is who I talk about. He was an Aerial, great
warrior bird. Your friend looks like him."
"That's a good thing, I hope," said Skull.
"Is good. Aspen was fine man, brave man. Killed a dragon-serpent, once... but Prospero
gets ahead of himself. Names?"
"Skull," Skull supplied. "Actually, Eugene Skullovitch, and this is Cedar Wind."
"Whoo, whoo!" hooted Prospero gleefully. "Knew it! Knew it the minute he set eyes on
you, did old Prospero! He still knows a Son of the Skull when he sees one! Very glad you came,
young Skull. You've come from far away."
"Yes," said Cedar. "He is not a true Aerial. He is a human, from Earth."
"That's what he thinks," said Prospero, his beak opening in an avian grin. "Maybe mostly
human, but not all. He doesn't know what he is, but Prospero does."
"You don't know what you are, either," the Firebird had once told Skull. The
words echoed in his brain now, triggering that old memory once more. Skull looked at Prospero
with new interest.
"What do you mean, not human?" he asked. "I've lived all my life on Earth, up until the
past couple of months. My parents are both human. A little weird, sure, but still human."
"Mostly human," Prospero repeated. "Tell me the family name again. Skullovitch, yes?"
Skull nodded. "I think it's Russian, or something like that."
"Could be. Doesn't matter," Prospero replied. "What meaning?"
"Umm... Good question, actually," said Skull. "Guess I never asked."
"Means 'son of Skull'!" said Prospero triumphantly. "Funny name, don't you think?"
"Hey, don't pick on my name!" said Skull. "I can't help it if I got stuck with a stupid
name."
"Not funny laugh. Funny strange," said Prospero. "Name doesn't fit together. Skull is
common language. Last part of name is... what you called it again?"
"Russian," Skull answered.
"Right. Two names from two places. One from Russian, one from here. Aerial name."
"How can that be?" asked Cedar. "You can't say just from his name that he's an Aerial.
There are too many other possible explanations."
"No other explanation," said Prospero. "Will tell a legend. I tell you about Aspen
Truebird, the serpent-slayer. The Oryllian Aerials were afraid for their children in the old days,
because the plains were home to a dragon-serpent who lived under the rocks. It would sometimes
slip into the cities and steal eggs. Steal hatchlings, too. Eat 'em up fast, and nothing could anyone
do about it. Dragon-serpent much to big and fast to stop. Too much for ordinary warrior, anyway.
Not for Aspen! His own firstborn chick was eaten by the dragon-serpent, and he became very
angry. He took up a sword and followed the serpent, and fought a mighty battle in the desert. He
was bitten and clawed by the serpent, but in the end he was victorious, and cut off its head as
trophy. Carried it into town, he did, so all the children could all see it was dead. That was how
we all knew Aspen was home, by the children shouting, 'The skull is coming! The skull is
coming!' That was why they started calling Aspen the Skull, because he slew the dragon-serpent.
His children became the Sons of the Skull, all mighty warriors. Travelers, too. When Zedd came
into power, Aspen's children left the planet to make homes on other worlds. You could very well
be the descendent of one of those children, Eugene Son-of-Skull."
"But how can you be sure?" asked Skull.
"Young Pyrrin says that you carry powers of the Dark Falcon, yes?" Prospero inquired.
Skull nodded. "Is that important?"
"'Tis," Prospero replied. "Not everyone can carry those powers. They were made only to
interact with certain people. Bird-type people. Aerials, Firebird-children. Such like that. Others
might could use them, but not well and not for long. How long you've had them? Days? Weeks?
Months? Couldn't have held on to them that long if you weren't meant to keep them."
"Then the Firebird knew all along that I was...?"
"Of course! Aerials have inherent magic. How else could they shape-shift the way they
do?" asked Prospero. "Anyone with magic-sight can see an Aerial no matter what shape they
wear. There is very little magic left in you, Eugene, but there is enough. You are human mostly,
but there is Aerial blood in you, too."
Skull sat and listened to the pronunciation with his mind reeling. Him? An Aerial? But
that meant he wasn't even completely human! And yet... and yet it explained so much. How he'd
never really fit in with other people, for example. Why Tien had felt more like home to him than
the world on which he'd been born, and why he'd fit in so easily with the people there. Why he
had come to love flying and how he'd taken so naturally to it. Could that be why he and Cedar
had made friends so easily - because she was the first person he'd ever met who was truly his
own kind. It was a lot to take in at once.
"Isn't that wonderful, Eugene?" asked Cedar. "Tien really is your home, after all."
"But so is Oryllia," he replied, managing to pull his brain into gear again. "And me the
descendent of an Oryllian hero. No wonder Garudan came looking for me. Hope I don't wind up
disappointing him."
"Garudan is back?" asked Prospero. "Interesting news, this is. Has been many years since
the Elemental Birds were seen here."
"Well, now there are two of them," said Skull. "The Firebird and the Thunderbird."
"Firebird," Prospero said thoughtfully. "And he is not here with you?"
"He left us," said Cedar sullenly. "Took off looking for friends and never returned.
Garudan says we can't trust Firebird anymore."
"Ah, yes. Fenikus is a shifty old bird," said Prospero. "Forgetful. Probably overdue for a
tuneup, whoo!" The old owl chuckled at some private joke.
"Tuneup?" Cedar repeated. "What does that mean?"
"Yeah, I didn't think Firebirds ever needed their brakes checked and their oil changed,"
said Skull.
"No, no, not like that," said Prospero. "What your Firebird needs is his heart
changed."
"That, I'll agree with," Skull replied. "Just one question: how do you do that?"
"Is Firebird's nature," said Prospero, as if that was obvious. "It is in his name. Fenikus.
Phoenix. Do you know anything about the Phoenix of legend?"
"That was that bird who set itself on fire and then hatched out of an egg again," said
Skull, proud that he actually knew the answer to a question.
"Right," Prospero replied, "and your Fenikus is the original for that story. One thing even
Garudan does not realize about his brother, because it is one trait they do not share. Garudan
purifies himself by the choice of his soul-brothers, moving from one to another so that his
essence is kept in constant flux. That is the way of air. But Prospero remembers Fenikus from old
days, and he knows something no one remembers any more. The nature of fire is to burn and die,
leaving nothing but ash. The longer the fire is left untended, the less like a fire it becomes, yes?
Same for Firebird. He begins good and pure as fire, but the longer he burns, the more corrupt he
gets. He must renew himself every once in a while and be born again. He doesn't like it. Too
proud, is Fenikus. Thinks he can get by without help. Bet he hasn't done it."
"Okay, I'll believe that," said Skull, who hadn't understood half of what had been said.
"So... you think Firebird will behave better if he gets renewed, or whatever you said?"
"Right," said Prospero. "Would be a good idea to try it, I'm thinking. Will be nothing but
trouble if your own patron has turned against you."
"So, how do we get him back on our side?" asked Cedar.
"Well," Prospero replied, "the first thing to do would be to kill him."
*******************************************************************
Charla was eavesdropping on a very interesting conversation. High court was being held
in Zedd's throne room, an interesting parody of a justice system that she usually enjoyed
watching. When the old king had still been in power, it had been customary for the people to
come to him to hear court cases and judge their fairness. In these times, the king's throne room
was used for meting out punishment to transgressors. Charla saw a number of grim-faced guards
holding a variety of offenders in the back of the room: a brave young man who'd been caught
trying to escape the city walls, a young woman who had stolen bread to feed her children, and
several citizens whose sleeves had been ripped away to show off their telltale copper bracelets.
Thorald was also there, lurking in the shadows and trying not to be seen - not something that was
likely to work in the court of this king.
"Captain," Zedd barked, his growling voice cutting through the murmur of onlookers and
the woman's quiet sobs. "I see you've finally made it here. The news must be very good this
morning, for you to be so eager to share it. Quit sniveling, stand forth, and report."
"Yes, highness," said Thorald, stepping out into the center of the room. He neared Zedd's
throne and dropped to one knee. "I am at your service, as always."
"Yes, yes, never mind all that. I've heard it before," answered the king testily. "Quit
stalling already."
"He's just observing the proper formalities," Charla reminded him. "You ordered him to
do so on pain of death. You can't have it both ways."
"Ahem, yes, so I did," grumbled Zedd. "Anyway, now he ought to be finished. Tell me,
Captain, how have your men managed to foul things up this time?"
"My men have asked that I bring you a message," said Thorald, choosing his words
carefully. "Last night, as we pursued the leader of the rebels who call themselves the Copper
Band, we saw... well, you aren't going to believe this, and I wouldn't either if I hadn't seen it
with my own eyes, but... we saw the Thunderbird."
There was a communal gasp from all onlookers. A few of them made signs against
danger; others looked up with sudden hope.
"Did you really?" asked Zedd suspiciously. "And how do you know this wasn't
just some trick, or an illusion? How would you even know a Thunderbird if you saw one?"
"That's what it said it was, and I didn't hang around to argue with it," Thorald replied. "It
made all the street lights go out and turned the fog into a thunderstorm. My men fled in fear, and
I had no choice but to leave with them. Otherwise, I would have stayed and faced him and his
minions."
"Minions?" repeated Zedd. "Elaborate on that."
"There were two of them, besides the Band leader. A golden bird with fiery wings, and a
man in an outlandish black costume."
"Entirely black?" asked Zedd. "Or patterned in red? And with a purple mask and purple
wings?"
"It is as you say, all-seeing one," said Thorald.
"That Falcon!" Zedd roared. "He's found me again! How could he have done that? It's
been over ten thousand years! How could he still be alive?"
"Falcon?" repeated Thorald. "Begging your pardon, highness, but of what import is a
bird?"
"No bird, you numbskull," Zedd answered. "A warrior calling himself the Dark Falcon.
He is my sworn enemy. I thought I had seen the last of him with the downfall of Tien, but if he
has returned..."
"My lord," Charla interjected smoothly, "I move we continue this discussion somewhere
more private. There are doubtless things we will want to discuss that are not meant to be heard by
common ears."
"You do come up with a good idea every once in a while," Zedd replied. "All right,
everyone, out of here! Not you," he added, glaring at Thorald. "You stay right where you are."
Thorald sighed and did as he was told, settling back into the uncomfortable kneeling
position he'd been holding. The other guards and their captives shuffled out, herding their
captives to wait in the antechamber.
"Now we can discuss this matter in peace, more or less," said Charla. "I have a few
contributions to make that I don't want anyone else to hear."
"I don't see what the problem is, begging your royal pardons," said Thorald. "What did
this Dark Falcon person do to you? He didn't look all that dangerous. He looked kind of stupid,
really, if you want my opinion."
"Nobody does," said Zedd, "and for your information, it's the Dark Falcon's fault that I
lost Tien, the war against Zordon, and am now forced to wear this shape instead of my proper
form, which is why I don't like talking about him."
Thorald cringed as he watched the air around his ruler flare red. "Sorry I asked."
"You should be," answered Zedd. "I hadn't seen or heard from him in eons. I had
expected him to be dead by now."
"You can fix that," said Charla. "We'll just find him and kill him. Torture him a while
first, if you like. I'll help."
"Silence, woman! It's not that easy. If it had been, I would have done so years ago."
"Ah, but then you didn't have me," said Charla smugly. "The Dark Falcon is admittedly a
great warrior, but when he is without his powers, he's just an ordinary man."
"Sure, we'll just keep him from using his powers, then," Zedd answered sarcastically.
"That'll be a cinch. How do you think we're going to do that?"
"Very simply. We just take them away," Charla replied. "Or rather, we ask the Firebird to
do it for us."
"Have you lost your mind?" asked Zedd. "Even if we could find the Firebird, he'd
incinerate us as soon as look at us."
"Guess again," Charla replied. "The esteemed Firebird may be powerful, but he has his
weaknesses. Beautiful women are one of them. Long ago, he gave me a token of power that binds
him to me. He'll do as I tell him. Watch."
With a graceful gesture, the sorceress pulled a feather out of the air and held it up for all
to see. It was six inches long, elegantly curved, and shimmered in every color of the rainbow. A
small portion of the air around it seemed to take on a pale haze as every object nearby dulled in
comparison. A gentle rain of sparks fell from it briefly, vanishing before they could touch the
floor. She waved the feather in an arc above her head. A few seconds later, there was an
answering flash, and the Firebird appeared near the roof of the throne room and swooped to land
at Charla's feet.
"You called, my lady?" he inquired. Then he glanced up. "Oh, it's you again.
Hello. You recovered better from the accident than I thought you would. How remarkable."
"Don't take that tone of voice with me, you technicolor featherduster," Zedd snapped.
Charla shrugged. "He can't help it. He was born a snob."
"I was not. I was simply raised to have an honest idea of my own brilliance."
"Hmm. I see what you mean," said Zedd.
"Great stars and comets," Thorald whispered, staring at the bird. "You really do
know the Firebird!"
"I know him quite well," answered Charla smugly. She turned back to the bird. "Listen,
Fenikus, dear, we're having a little problem we thought you'd like to help us with. Would you be
interested in doing us a little favor?"
"Anything for you, beautiful lady," Firebird answered.
"Fine," she replied. "We don't like the Dark Falcon. Get rid of him."
"You mean, kill him? But I can't do that," Firebird protested. "I'll lose all
my powers if I take the life of an innocent."
"So don't hurt him, then," Charla replied. "Just take his powers away. You made him;
you can unmake him."
"Hmm... Yes! I could do that!" Firebird replied. "He's been getting to be a
nuisance, anyway. Won't take orders at all, and he's been mixing up with my brother as of late.
It's time I did something about him, anyway."
"This creature would turn on his own warrior just like that?" Zedd remarked. "A natural
turncoat... I think I like him."
"And once the Dark Falcon's powers are removed," Charla added, "we can give them to
someone else - someone who'll use them properly, to further our own causes."
"But not just anyone," Firebird warned. "The Dark Falcon powers were
meant to be used by Aerials. Anyone who uses them has to have at least a little Aerial blood in
them, or they won't work. Only the Storm Raven's powers will adhere to someone of pure
human stock."
"Well, there goes that brilliant idea," said Zedd. "What good are powers if you can't give
them to anyone you want? There haven't been Aerials on Oryllia since I took control, and there
are no Tienese left... not that I know of, anyway."
"Perhaps not, but there are halfbreeds," said an unexpected voice. Everyone turned to
look at Thorald.
"And just what is that comment supposed to mean?" asked Zedd.
Thorald shrugged. "Aerials sometimes chose to crossbreed with humans. After a while,
the crossbreeds lost their shapeshifting talents, so they're indistinguishable from human beings,
and thus, they were left alone while the pure Aerials were destroyed... and my great-great-
grandfather was half-Aerial."
"He speaks the truth," said the Firebird. "The mark is there, even more
strongly than the current Falcon. It would be child's play to transfer the powers to him. All I'd
have to do is convince my young warrior to put an end to his adventuring. That should not be
difficult. He is not the bravest of men."
"Excellent," Zedd chuckled. "This works out very nicely. If I have the Dark Falcon on my
side, no one would dare contest my power, and we could put a stop to that meddlesome Copper
Band once and for all. See to it! I have to get on with the rest of my judgements."
"As you wish, my lord," said Charla. "I wish to leave now. Meetings are so monotonous.
Come, Captain. You may escort me back to my chambers."
"I'll go see where my wayward warrior has gone," Firebird announced. "I
shall return shortly." He was gone in a flash of colored light that left a faint smell of
brimstone on the air.
Zedd barely noticed as Charla and Thorald slipped soundlessly out of the judgement hall
and into a side stairway. He was well aware, or thought he was, of what the two got up to when
he wasn't looking, and he didn't particularly care. He figured a woman with her reputation was
going to chase men behind his back anyway, and as long as she and the captain were busy with
amorous pursuits, they wouldn't be causing trouble.
"There are times," Charla remarked to Thorald, "that I really and truly wonder if his mind
wasn't damaged more in that accident than he says it was."
"What do you mean by that?" Thorald asked.
"I don't think it's even crossed his mind that we might decide to cross him," she replied.
"We should, though. It's a perfect opportunity."
"You have my attention. What's on your mind?"
"Firebird assures me that the young man who carries the Dark Falcon powers currently is
nowhere near a hero - weak, foolish, and cowardly - and yet he still was able to single-handedly
end Zedd's war. Imagine what could be done by a man of your strength and wiles. Imagine what I
could do with all the magic of the Firebird at my disposal."
"I see what you're getting at," Thorald replied. "You know, I begin to tire of being called
'Captain.' Do you think 'King' would suit me better?"
"I rather fancy being called 'Queen,' myself," Charla replied.
"It suits you well, my dear," Thorald replied. "Shall we retire to discuss our plans at
greater length?"
"Discussion only," warned Charla. "We don't need to make the Firebird jealous this early
in the game. But it wouldn't hurt to drink a toast to our success... to the end of Lord Zedd, and
the end of the pathetic creature who calls himself a Dark Falcon."
**********************************************************
"Kill him?" Skull repeated. "But-but-but I don't think I could..."
"Not permanent," said Prospero. "Isn't that how the legend goes? Bird dies, bird is
reborn. Told you he didn't like it."
"I wouldn't, either," said Skull.
"Garudan told us he died," Cedar commented. "He was allowed new life because he died
for a good cause. Is that what Firebird has to do?"
"Whoo! No!" Prospero hooted. "Good thing, too, or he'd never do it. No, he dies the
usual way, by fire. Dying's easy. Being reborn... not so easy. Needs help."
"What kind of help?" asked Skull.
"A woman's help. A special woman. A Firebird woman. They are special, and very rare.
Women with the nature of birds and the spirits of fire, who can share their life-force with Fenikus
to make him strong again. Not all of them good, though. Firebird's last helper was very wicked
woman. Still is, whoo! Is partly her fault. You need to find a better one for him next time."
"I'll see what I can do," said Skull. "As a matter of fact, I might even know where to find
one of those Firebird women."
The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door, and Pyrrin peeked inside,
looking worried.
"I hate to interrupt," he said, "but there's a Firebird here looking for you."
Cedar sighed. "How does he always know when we're talking about him?"
"Guess we'd better go talk to him," said Skull. "I have a few words I'd like to say to him,
too, I think. Where is he?"
"Upstairs, at the surface," Pyrrin replied. "You'd better go do something about him. I
don't like anything that noticeable hanging around the front door. If Zedd were to notice and send
someone to investigate, we'd all be in trouble."
"We'll get rid of him," said Skull. "Thanks for lunch, Prospero. Thanks for the info.
Come on, Cedar. Let's go see what Firebird wants."
Pyrrin led them back to the surface, looking around worriedly as if he expected Zedd's
warriors to already be waiting in the wings. Instead, all they found was the multicolored
Elemental Bird perched haughtily on the tip of a broken pillar, looking down on them from a
fifteen-foot height.
"There you are!" he said. "I've been looking all over for you. I have some
interesting news for you."
"Is that a fact?" Skull replied warily. He didn't like the look on the Firebird's face;
anytime he looked that cheerful, there had to be trouble going on.
"Indeed," Firebird replied. "You might even appreciate it. You see, I've
found you a replacement."
"Replacement?" Skull repeated.
"Yes. I knew you'd be pleased," said the Firebird, preening. "I noticed you
never seemed to enjoy this superhero business very much, and, well, to put it bluntly, you aren't
very good at it. I've found someone much more suited to the job, so-"
"Wait a minute!" Cedar protested. "Are you saying that you don't want Eugene to be the
Dark Falcon anymore?"
"That's it exactly," Firebird answered. "All he has to do is hand over his
powers and go home - back to Earth, or Tien, or Terra Venture, or whatever he prefers. Or he can
stay here if he likes; it's all the same to me. The same goes for you - I'm sure the new Falcon
would appreciate your help, but you are welcome to return to your home."
"And what if I don't want to give up?" asked Skull. "I like being the Dark Falcon.
I don't want to quit! I was just getting good at it!"
"That's debatable," said the Firebird. "It was your job to protect Tien, wasn't
it? Well, you failed. Have a look around, if you want. The planet of Tien is gone here. You hear
that? There's nothing left of it - just an empty spot in the universe where it used to be. It was your
responsibility to keep that from happening, and you royally blew it. I won't sit here and let the
same thing happen to Oryllia, so I'm giving your powers to someone who can use them
properly."
"You're lying!" Skull shouted, his hand clasped protectively around his amulet. "You're
lying to me, and you're not taking my powers!"
"Oh, yes, I am," Firebird replied, "and there's nothing you can do about
it!"
There was a flash as he dropped from the point of the pillar and landed on the ground in a
swirl of blinding lights. When they cleared, the bird was gone, and in his place was a man
dressed in blazing white clothing. Skull stared as he took in the details of the costume - the same
feather patterns he'd always seen on his own suit, but picked out in rainbow shades instead of red
and violet, and the Firebird's aquamarine eyes blazed from behind a golden mask.
"Do you want to tangle with me now, Eugene?" asked Fenikus. "I don't think you do. In
this form, I'm more powerful than you could ever be."
"We'll see about that," Skull replied. "Will you help me here, Cedar?"
"Always," she agreed.
They shouted their words of transformation, and the battle began. The Firebird watched
with a look of smug amusement as the Dark Falcon rushed him, deflecting the attack with a calm
flip of one rainbow wing, using his other hand to punch Skull in the gut, making him stagger
back with the wind knocked out of him. Cedar swooped in screaming, but the Firebird flipped
out a laser and shot her back with rapid pulses of white light. Skull heard her scream as she fell,
landing painfully on a heap of sharp stones, and the sight of his friend being hurt unleashed
waves of fury. Bad enough that the Firebird was trying to steal Skull's source of pride and
identity, but to be hurting Cedar, his loyal friend...
Firebird's memory was selective; he could remember Skull as a bumbling clown, but he
couldn't have imagined he'd suddenly find himself staring into the eyes of an angry warrior who
matched him glare for fiery glare. Skull slowly drew his sword, all the while giving the bird a
death look.
"Uh-oh," Firebird said.
Skull sprang. Firebird tried to dodge, but Skull had been expecting the move and changed
course in midair with a flip of his wing. They both hit the rocky ground, but Skull had the upper
hand and used it. He raked the sword across Fenikus's chest...
...and fell back with a cry of pain, staring in shock at a smoking gash across the front of
his armor.
"Fool," Firebird spat, laboriously raising himself from the ground. "You and I are
connected to each other. I am your power source. If you kill me, your powers will go out with
me."
Skull gritted his teeth in anger, but deep inside, he knew the bird was right. On Terra
Venture, when they had fought the Thornspike monster, he had felt a sensation of wrongness
when the Firebird had come under attack. But he had to kill the Firebird somehow - he was
dangerous, and he would never cease to be so until an end was put to him. What could he do?
"You've got no choice but to give up," Firebird replied. "I'm going to have those powers,
whether you give them to me or I take them by force."
"You - you can't kill me," said Skull. "Garudan told me so. He said if you kill someone,
you'll lose all your powers, too."
Fenikus smiled, and Skull felt a chill.
"I am not allowed to murder innocents, yes," said the Firebird. "However, you tried to kill
me, and I have the gashes to prove it. You turned on someone who was trying to help you, and
that means if I fight back, it's nothing more sinister than self-defense. Hand over your amulet,
Eugene, or I will kill you."
Skull stared at the Firebird, trying to read the expression on his face, and saw nothing but
insanity.
*It's always been there. Why didn't I see it? Prospero's right; he's out of control.*
With a deep sigh, Skull shifted back to his natural form and slipped the amulet off,
moving it as if it weighed a thousand pounds. He dropped it in the dust at Firebird's feet.
"You come to your senses," Fenikus replied, scooping up his prize. "Good for you.
Farewell, Eugene. From now on, learn not to meddle in the affairs of Immortals."
"Near Immortals," Skull snapped. "You're a poser and you know it, and you won't get
away with this."
A fireball flew in his direction, but he stood firm. No matter what Firebird said, he knew
he was innocent, and if he died he'd take Firebird with him. Besides, nothing could hurt as much
as giving up the amulet did. Perhaps Firebird knew that; the bolt fizzled out inches short of
reaching its target.
"Let that be a warning to you," said Firebird sulkily. "Next time, I won't miss."
With that, he shifted back into bird-form and flew away, dragging half of Skulls' soul on
a chain in the shape of a silver amulet. Skull turned away sadly and went to check on Cedar. She
had morphed back into human form and was lying dazedly on the rocks. He lifted her up gently.
"Cedar, are you all right? Are you hurt?" he asked.
Cedar's eyes fluttered open. "What happened? Did he take your necklace?"
"Yeah," Skull sighed. "There was nothing else I could do. He was too much for me.
Guess I'm still not much of a hero, huh?"
"You did all you could. It is not your fault you can't fight off an Immortal."
"You're always trying to make me feel better," said Skull. "Why do you do that when I
always wind up letting you down?"
"You only would have let me down if you had given up without a fight," said Cedar.
"You haven't failed yet. You won't know for sure if you've failed or not until the day you die. As
long as you live, there is a chance to set things right."
"Maybe so," Skull agreed. "Anyway, I know I'm not giving up just yet, not while
Firebird's got my amulet. I don't care what he says, it's mine, and I'm not letting him keep it."
"Then I'm staying with you," said Cedar.
"Are you sure?" Skull replied. "I don't want to see you get hurt again. Neither one of us is
safe here."
"All the more reason to stay," said Cedar. "We're partners. We have to be here to protect
each other."
Skull smiled a little. "That's what I figured you'd say. Too bad I'm not up to doing a
whole lot of protecting right now. This is one of the times I start to wish a real hero would step in
and take over."
"You'll think of something," Cedar assured him.
Skull nodded. For once, he had thought of something, and now a plan was beginning to
hatch in the back of his mind. Right now, a real hero was needed, and he thought he knew just
where to get one... or more.
"You know who would come in handy right now?" Skull asked. "The Power Rangers."
mine, but I might let Saban use it if they payed me enough. ;-)
Dark Falcon... Replaced?
SilvorMoon
Skull was waking up from a nightmare. He had dreamed he was lost on a cold, dark world
full of angry warriors who would tear him apart as soon as look at him, that his friends had
turned away from him or against him, and that the evil warlord he was sure he'd destroyed was
still alive and waiting to take his vengeance. He had failed in his mission to protect Tien, and
now he was going to die alone on this hostile world, left only with incontrovertible proof that he
was just what everyone had always insisted he was: a failure.
Then he came completely awake and remembered his nightmare was true. He was on the
world of Oryllia - more specifically, lying in the dirt of a back alley, hiding. Zedd was alive on
this world, and fully in control. Skull felt the despair of the previous night gripping at him again -
how could Cedar ever forgive him for failing? How could anybody? He could never go back to
Tien now, knowing that he hadn't been able to live up to his duty as the Dark Falcon, and that
was enough to make him want to go back to crying all over again. If there was one thing his
adventures over the last few days had taught him, it was that Tien was home to him in a way
Earth had never been. His true family was there - wise Hemlock, kindhearted Poplar, and sweet,
beautiful Cedar... Losing her would hurt the most.
People had always said that Skull's brain wasn't the swiftest piece of machinery in the
world, and that was particularly so first thing in the morning. That was how he managed to get so
far along the path of self-pity before it should occur to him to wonder why he was wrapped in
feathers - warm, soft feathers that smelled of cedar wood. He looked around and realized that at
least one part of his nightmare wasn't true, after all.
"Cedar!" he exclaimed.
The lady-bird's amber eyes opened and blinked sleepily. "Good morning, Eugene."
"Cedar, what are you doing here?" he asked.
"Came looking for you," she replied. "Very silly to go to sleep out here, Eugene.
Someone might have found you. This is not best place in universe to be doing silly things." She
sat up and stretched her wings. "Now that we are avake, ve should go. Told Pyrrin ve vould meet
him again today."
"But, but... you aren't mad at me?" asked Skull.
Cedar tilted her head in puzzlement. "Should I be?"
"Well, yeah! I mean, I was supposed to be helping your world. I was supposed to be the
one who destroyed Lord Zedd, and I didn't. Now he's still going to be alive to hurt your people,
and it was my job to keep that from happening. I'm sorry, Cedar. I was supposed to change
everything, just like you said, but I didn't. If you don't want to hang around me anymore, I'll
understand."
"Oh, Eugene," Cedar sighed, "you vorry yourself too much. I liked you before you were
hero, didn't I?"
"Well, yeah, I guess..."
"Then vy should vether or not you make good hero change how much I like you?" asked
Cedar. "You forget, I am hero, too. The Gold Eagle. Do you not like me for not being brave
enough to help you fight Zedd?"
"Of course not!" Skull blurted. "I always like you, Cedar. You were smart not to go with
me. I only went because Firebird tricked me."
"Then don't say you failed. You vent, you did the best you could, you made it home alive.
You did some good, even if it wasn't all the good you vanted to do, so don't vorry! You vorry
too much, Eugene." Seeing her friend looking crestfallen, she added, "But I know you only vorry
because you care. That is vat I like about you, Eugene. You have caring heart."
"Thanks," said Skull. He managed to smile a bit. "So do you."
Cedar smiled back at him. "Is nice of you to say so. Come! Ve have a frrriend vaiting for
us."
"Yeah, that's right. Pyrrin," Skull sighed, scrambling to his feet. "If he doesn't think I'm
crazy for running away like that."
"I knew vy you did it," said Cedar. "Just don't run avay anymorrre. The Dark Falcon and
Gold Eagle are meant to be partners. Ve arrre not supposed to be apart."
"I hope so," said Skull. "I don't like it when we're apart."
"Neither do I," she replied. She shook herself, shifting from half-bird to fully human, and
then made a face. "Much too cold here without feathers."
"Here," said Skull, slipping out of his leather jacket. "You kept me warm all night. Now
it's my turn to help."
The cold Oryllian morning air froze his bare arms, but Skull hardly noticed. His friend's
smile of gratitude made it warm as summer. As they followed the dirty streets back to the home
of their friend Pyrrin, an elderly Oryllian woman peeked out of her window and smiled, thinking
to herself that it was a sign of hope when young lovers could still thrive in the chill of her dark
world.
*****************************************************************
Charla's motto was, "Play all the angles," and her magically lengthened life had given her
ample time to perfect this strategy. She had learned early in life that there were only two options
in life - to take advantage someone or have someone else take advantage of you, and it hadn't
taken long for her to decide that the very best way to get by was to make use of as many people
as possible. Men had done it often enough to her when she was growing up, a rare and beautiful
flower on a harsh world. They had seen her only as a weak and obedient but remarkably lovely
young girl, and they had used their strength and power to take whatever they liked from her.
However, they had never known or cared that she was also highly intelligent. It hadn't taken her
long that there were some things that some men would do anything for, and once that came clear
in her mind, she'd used the knowledge to get her own way. Even now, when much of her
youthful beauty had worn off, the strategy still worked. She was still attractive, and with a
confidence that silently but effectively communicated that any man who came to her embrace
would not go away disappointed.
*Men fool themselves,* she thought, smirking at her reflection in the mirror as
she groomed herself for a new day. *They are so intent on getting what they want from me
that they never stop to think that I could be taking advantage of them at the same time. If they
do realize it, they're still too stupid to care.*
At the moment, she had a grand total of three men on her string, each serving his own
purpose. The most obvious of these was the king himself, Lord Zedd. Officially, she was
supposed to be his mistress (she wasn't foolish enough to get married to anyone again, not even a
king), but that was only a public face. The truth was, the accident had made certain pastimes
difficult at best, due to the amount of power it cost him to remain fully human for any amount of
time. Their relationship was, as she had told the Firebird, an arrangement. She shared her magical
power with him in exchange for a say in the rulership of the planet and any luxuries he could
supply. Very few people ever found out that her quarters were furnished more comfortably than
the king's own.
The second person on her list was the unexpected arrival of the previous night, the
Firebird. She was still not sure she liked the idea of keeping him around, but at least she had
nothing to complain about yet. For now, he seemed willing enough to follow her orders without
complaint, and he was a satisfactory lover as long as he kept his talk to a minimum. Perhaps she
could think of a use for him. If not, well, she'd gotten rid of him once, and he was probably
stupid enough to fall for her tricks again.
Her third companion, however, was her source of real pleasure, not to mention his own
brand of political power. She dreamed of someday seeing him usurp Oryllia's foolish king, but
for now they pretended aloofness... unless, of course, no one was looking.
She met him on her way to the king's courtroom, spotting him lurking behind a pillar in
the main hallway. Casting a glance this way and that to make sure they were alone, she drifted
over to his hiding spot.
"Well, good morning, Thorald," she purred. "How pleasant to see you."
"The pleasure is mine, my lady," the captain of the guard replied, taking her hand to kiss
it. "I'm sorry it's going to have to be cut short today. I have some unhappy news to deliver to His
Majesty, and I don't think it's going to leave me with any spare time for a while."
"News?" asked Charla. "Do tell."
"Well, you aren't going to believe this," said Thorald, "but we saw an Elemental Bird last
night."
"I believe you," said Charla. "I saw him myself."
"Oh, good," Thorald sighed in relief. "If you tell Zedd, he'll believe it. If I tell him, I'm
just as likely to be whipped for lying. It's got all my men in a stir. Half of them refuse to go out
on the streets again. They think it's going to eat them, for crying out loud!"
"Elemental Birds don't eat humans," said Charla disdainfully. "Electrocute them,
perhaps, or burn them to ash, but they're not supposed to eat anything physical, and when they
do, they have better taste than that."
"That's a real comfort," said Thorald sarcastically. "Sorry, darling, I don't mean to snap
at you. I just haven't had a wink of sleep all night for tying to convince the boys that it's safe to
go out on patrols."
"I understand completely," said Charla. "Don't worry about it. I think I can have the
situation well taken care of."
"That's a load off my mind. I know you'll follow through," Thorald replied. "Now, if
you'll excuse me, I'm off to tell His Majesty the bad news. Will you be around tonight?"
"I'll get back to you on that," Charla replied. "If you want your Firebird dealt with, you're
going to have to give me some time to work."
"Firebird?" Thorald repeated. "The bird I saw claimed to be Garudan, the Thunderbird."
"Did he? Hmm, that complicates things," said Charla. "Well, there are still things I can
do. Just leave it all to me, my dear, and everything will work out fine."
"I know it will," Thorald replied. They leaned in close for a kiss, then sprang apart
moments later at the sound of approaching feet.
"See me after you talk to Zedd," Charla whispered. "I may have an idea by then." Then
she made a fluid gesture that made her fade away in a swirl of orange smoke. Thorald bowed to
the place she had been, then continued on his way to the king's throne room.
**********************************************************
Skull and Cedar found Pyrrin waiting for them in the same place they had found him
yesterday, lurking in the shadows of an alleyway. There was very little sunlight reaching the city
today; even now that the sun had come fully up and was beginning to cast off some of the chill,
there was still a haze over everything. The air was hard to breathe, and everything looked grey
and smoggy. Even in such daylight as there was, the leader of the Copper Band would have been
invisible if the pair hadn't known what to look for. Pyrrin stood stock-still, moving only
occasionally, rattling a copper cup full of coins and begging in a weary voice for alms. He looked
up in surprise as his friends approached.
"You made it back," he said. "I wasn't sure what was going to happen after you ran off
last night."
"I was just a little surprised, that's all," Skull mumbled. "Zedd... doesn't exactly like me
very much."
Pyrrin smiled a little. "All the better. Any enemy of Zedd's is a friend of mine. Here, put
these on." He reached in his pocket and pulled out two flattened strips of copper bent into
bracelets, each stamped with a crude image of a spread-winged bird.
"Copper bands," Cedar remarked.
"That's right," Pyrrin replied. "These mark you as one of us. Wherever you go in the city,
if you see someone wearing a band like this, show them your own and tell them I gave these to
you. They'll help you to the ends of their strength. Just don't forget that these bind you to do the
same for any of them."
"We won't," Skull promised, slipping his own bracelet on. "Was that what you wanted to
talk to us about?"
"No, I've got a few more surprises up my sleeve," said Pyrrin. "But the open street is not
the place to talk about it. Come! I'm to go to court today."
"Court?" asked Skull, puzzled.
"Just follow and learn," Pyrrin replied. "And try not to be noticed."
So saying, Pyrrin led his followers through a mazelike series of streets, alleys, and finally
a net of dirt paths that terminated in a tangled field of rocks and broken wood. It looked as if the
place had once held a large building of some sort, but now it was just a heap of rubble. There was
a faint scent of mold here, but at least the haze was thinner here and the air warmer. Skull stared
at the site trying to figure out what it had once been. Scraps of what looked like broken statuary
said it had a grand structure, whatever it was. Big, too - the rubble seemed to go on for miles.
Here and there, colored lights flashed from shards of old stained glass windows. Perhaps this had
been a church of some sort, or...
"The castle of the True King," Pyrrin announced, finishing Skull's thought. "Our real
ruler contented himself to live among his people, not alone on a windy mountaintop. Zedd
wrecked this place when he usurped the throne. What he didn't know was that my ancestor
worked here in the castle, as keeper of the crypts and the cellars, and he knew the underground
like the back of his hand. He established the Copper Band and set up camp below the old castle.
That's where we live now, in a place we call the King's Court."
"Because this is where the king used to live?" asked Cedar as she and Skull followed
Pyrrin over the heaps of stone.
"Much more than that," Pyrrin replied. "Over the years, the maps of the underground
were lost or wore to dust, and all those who knew the secret paths died out. However, we know
that the tunnels go on and on for miles, branching out under the whole city. Legend has it that
somewhere in the underground is where the body of the king is sleeping." He paused, staring off
into nowhere. "Something tells me the time is coming near when we'll find him again."
"Sounds creepy to me," Skull muttered, shivering a little.
"Maybe to you," said Pyrrin, setting off again, "but not to us. When the Storm Raven
awakens, we'll have a proper protector again, one who can get rid of Zedd once and for all."
Cedar laid a comforting hand on Skull's arm as she saw something dangerous flash in his
eyes.
"Here we are!" Pyrrin announced. "Home sweet home!"
He was standing before a battered old metal door, black and tarnished now, inlaid with
coils and loops of green that had once been polished copper. Pyrrin took an old-fashioned key
with a long barrel and elaborately decorated top, swung one of the green plates out of the way to
reveal a hidden keyhole. Surprisingly, the key slid into the hole with ease, and the massive door
swung open without a sound. Skull and Cedar stared uncertainly down the deep black hole that
opened up before them.
"Sorry it's so dark," said Pyrrin, "but lighted torches are a fair guarantee that someone is
home, and we don't need anyone knowing we're here. Don't worry; it gets better the further you
go."
They went in, and the door was pulled shut behind them, leaving them in total blackness.
There was a rasping sound, and then a torch came alive in Pyrrin's hand. The inside of the cavern
was built like the entrance to a mine, with lumpy masses of rock jutting from the wall and a
ceiling supported by beams of heavy timber. Skull eyed the supports with distrust; they looked as
if they were only standing up out of habit.
"This kinda reminds me of a movie I saw once," he said. "The Disney one about the
hunchback."
"What's a movie?" asked Pyrrin.
"What's Disney?" asked Cedar.
"Aw, forget it," Skull replied. "I don't think I could explain it, anyway."
"If you say so," said Pyrrin. "Anyway, now that we're down here, I can talk a little more
freely. The King's Court, as I've said, is the secret headquarters of the Copper Band. This is
where we mete out justice, both to our own and to any members of the Hand we happen to
capture. We also use it as a safe hiding place - not just for when we don't want to be found, but
for our supplies and for those few refugees from Zedd that we deem safe to let in on our secret.
It's one of these people I'm taking you to see. His name is Prospero. He's our wise man. Very,
very old, older than Zedd himself. He remembers back to the days when the True King reigned...
You two are Aerials, aren't you?" he asked, surprising them by the change of subject.
"I am," said Cedar proudly. "My friend was not born on Tien, but... he's close enough."
"I thought it was something like that," Pyrrin replied. He was leading them down a fork in
the corridor, past dark voids that apparently led to other parts of the complex. "There used to be
Aerials on Oryllia, too. Zedd hates even the thought of Aerials, though, or at least that's what
I've heard, so once he settled himself here, he exterminated every one he could find. We
managed to rescue a few, those who could stand never using their wings properly again. Now
there's just Prospero."
"So he's an Aerial?" asked Skull. It might have been a silly question, but he was
interested. It surprised him how much he'd missed seeing people with beaks and feathers.
Pyrrin nodded. "When I found out that there were Aerials on Oryllia again, I sent a
messenger back here to ask him to stay up and meet you. It's past his bedtime, now, but I don't
think he'll care. He's a night owl, but he'd rather talk than anything else, I think. You'll like
him."
"I'm sure I will," Skull agreed.
They walked deeper and deeper into the complex, following a twisting path that looped in
all directions like the tunnel of a worm. Cedar was fidgety, distrusting the impenetrable darkness
and claustrophobic spaces, and she kept close to Skull. He was just wondering whether it would
be all right to put his arm around her (something that had gotten him slapped a few times before
by other girls) when he was saved from making a decision by Pyrrin calling a halt next to a
splintery wooden door. Pyrrin rapped on it loudly.
"Prospero!" he called. "I've got some visitors for you."
There was a rustling and bumping on the other side of the door. Then it popped open like
the lid of a jack-in-the-box, making Pyrrin jump backwards and nearly drop the torch. A
feathered white head poked out of the opening, surveying his guests with round golden eyes.
"Whoo! 'Tis too late for guests," he hooted. "Go away."
"But Prospero," said Pyrrin calmly, "you said you wanted to talk to them earlier."
"Wasn't bed time earlier," said Prospero. "Whoo! Too late. Go away."
"These are Aerials," Pyrrin replied. "All the way from Tien. When was the last time you
got to talk to a real Aerial, hmm?"
Prospero looked at the visitors skeptically, and then stepped out into the hallway. He was
shorter than either Skull or Cedar, but not bent or frail-looking. Rather, his hooked beak, piercing
eyes, and the horn-like tufts of feathers on the top of his head gave him a countenance that was
almost fierce. His broad white wings protruded from the frayed sleeves of a battered brown robe.
He looked, Skull thought, like a feathered version of a monk or a mountaintop guru. He was not
in the least surprised that the Band had chosen this owl Aerial as their wise man.
"Whoo!" said Prospero again, looking Skull over. "Shrileecht, you are."
"Come again?" asked Skull.
Cedar gave the owl a puzzled look. "How did you know his name?"
"Name?" Skull repeated. "Cedar, what are you talking about. I never even heard that
word before."
"Shrileecht," Cedar replied. "It is a Tienese word. It means, 'the skull.'"
"Yes, yes!" said Prospero gleefully. "Old bird still knows a Son of the Skull when he sees
one. Been a long time, you betcha, but Prospero knows." He looked back at Skull, squinting
thoughtfully, and then flicked the young man's beaky nose with his long, dusty pinfeather. Skull
resisted the urge to sneeze.
"You," said Prospero, "have a nose like a hawk. Eyes like a hawk, too," he added,
brushing his wingtip across Skull's forehead. "Just like Aspen did, all many years back. You both
come in and have breakfast, yes?"
Skull felt his mouth water at the mention of breakfast. When had he last eaten? Not since
those sandwiches on Terra Venture, and now he was acutely aware that he was almost painfully
hungry.
"Great idea," he said. "You hungry too, Cedar."
"Bird always hungry," she answered with a smile.
"Whoo! All birds will come in and eat," said Prospero. "Humans will go away. Goodbye,
Pyrrin. Guests will be fine without you. This is talk for Aerials only."
"As you wish," said Pyrrin, bowing slightly to his elder. "You all have fun. I'll be back in
a few minutes to check on you all."
Prospero stretched one of his great white wings around his guests and herded them
through his open door. Inside, they found a dusty old room full of rickety furniture, every surface
covered in dust, spiderwebs, fragments of shed feathers, and old books. Lots and lots of books,
papers, scrolls, and writing utensils cluttered not only the desk and table, but the floor and all the
chairs as well. Prospero picked a few books off of the nearest chairs and the table, setting them
all on the floor next to an ornamental pot full of colored mushrooms. Then he went to a shelf to
take down bread and cheese and bottles of water for his guests.
"Sit. Eat," he instructed. "Old Prospero ate dinner already, so you two will eat and he will
talk. Good?"
"Fine," said Skull, dropping into a padded chair. Dust flew up in a greyish cloud. At least
the food looked fresh, and he and his partner started on it with relish.
"Been long time since there were Aerials on Oryllia," said Prospero wistufully. "Not been
any since Aspen died. He was the last to hold out. Aspen was Prospero's friend, you know."
"That is second time you've mentioned Aspen," said Cedar. "Who was he? You talk like
we should know who he is."
Prospero shook his head. "Whoo! Sorry. Old Prospero talks to himself so much he forgets
you don't know what he knows. Aspen Truebird is who I talk about. He was an Aerial, great
warrior bird. Your friend looks like him."
"That's a good thing, I hope," said Skull.
"Is good. Aspen was fine man, brave man. Killed a dragon-serpent, once... but Prospero
gets ahead of himself. Names?"
"Skull," Skull supplied. "Actually, Eugene Skullovitch, and this is Cedar Wind."
"Whoo, whoo!" hooted Prospero gleefully. "Knew it! Knew it the minute he set eyes on
you, did old Prospero! He still knows a Son of the Skull when he sees one! Very glad you came,
young Skull. You've come from far away."
"Yes," said Cedar. "He is not a true Aerial. He is a human, from Earth."
"That's what he thinks," said Prospero, his beak opening in an avian grin. "Maybe mostly
human, but not all. He doesn't know what he is, but Prospero does."
"You don't know what you are, either," the Firebird had once told Skull. The
words echoed in his brain now, triggering that old memory once more. Skull looked at Prospero
with new interest.
"What do you mean, not human?" he asked. "I've lived all my life on Earth, up until the
past couple of months. My parents are both human. A little weird, sure, but still human."
"Mostly human," Prospero repeated. "Tell me the family name again. Skullovitch, yes?"
Skull nodded. "I think it's Russian, or something like that."
"Could be. Doesn't matter," Prospero replied. "What meaning?"
"Umm... Good question, actually," said Skull. "Guess I never asked."
"Means 'son of Skull'!" said Prospero triumphantly. "Funny name, don't you think?"
"Hey, don't pick on my name!" said Skull. "I can't help it if I got stuck with a stupid
name."
"Not funny laugh. Funny strange," said Prospero. "Name doesn't fit together. Skull is
common language. Last part of name is... what you called it again?"
"Russian," Skull answered.
"Right. Two names from two places. One from Russian, one from here. Aerial name."
"How can that be?" asked Cedar. "You can't say just from his name that he's an Aerial.
There are too many other possible explanations."
"No other explanation," said Prospero. "Will tell a legend. I tell you about Aspen
Truebird, the serpent-slayer. The Oryllian Aerials were afraid for their children in the old days,
because the plains were home to a dragon-serpent who lived under the rocks. It would sometimes
slip into the cities and steal eggs. Steal hatchlings, too. Eat 'em up fast, and nothing could anyone
do about it. Dragon-serpent much to big and fast to stop. Too much for ordinary warrior, anyway.
Not for Aspen! His own firstborn chick was eaten by the dragon-serpent, and he became very
angry. He took up a sword and followed the serpent, and fought a mighty battle in the desert. He
was bitten and clawed by the serpent, but in the end he was victorious, and cut off its head as
trophy. Carried it into town, he did, so all the children could all see it was dead. That was how
we all knew Aspen was home, by the children shouting, 'The skull is coming! The skull is
coming!' That was why they started calling Aspen the Skull, because he slew the dragon-serpent.
His children became the Sons of the Skull, all mighty warriors. Travelers, too. When Zedd came
into power, Aspen's children left the planet to make homes on other worlds. You could very well
be the descendent of one of those children, Eugene Son-of-Skull."
"But how can you be sure?" asked Skull.
"Young Pyrrin says that you carry powers of the Dark Falcon, yes?" Prospero inquired.
Skull nodded. "Is that important?"
"'Tis," Prospero replied. "Not everyone can carry those powers. They were made only to
interact with certain people. Bird-type people. Aerials, Firebird-children. Such like that. Others
might could use them, but not well and not for long. How long you've had them? Days? Weeks?
Months? Couldn't have held on to them that long if you weren't meant to keep them."
"Then the Firebird knew all along that I was...?"
"Of course! Aerials have inherent magic. How else could they shape-shift the way they
do?" asked Prospero. "Anyone with magic-sight can see an Aerial no matter what shape they
wear. There is very little magic left in you, Eugene, but there is enough. You are human mostly,
but there is Aerial blood in you, too."
Skull sat and listened to the pronunciation with his mind reeling. Him? An Aerial? But
that meant he wasn't even completely human! And yet... and yet it explained so much. How he'd
never really fit in with other people, for example. Why Tien had felt more like home to him than
the world on which he'd been born, and why he'd fit in so easily with the people there. Why he
had come to love flying and how he'd taken so naturally to it. Could that be why he and Cedar
had made friends so easily - because she was the first person he'd ever met who was truly his
own kind. It was a lot to take in at once.
"Isn't that wonderful, Eugene?" asked Cedar. "Tien really is your home, after all."
"But so is Oryllia," he replied, managing to pull his brain into gear again. "And me the
descendent of an Oryllian hero. No wonder Garudan came looking for me. Hope I don't wind up
disappointing him."
"Garudan is back?" asked Prospero. "Interesting news, this is. Has been many years since
the Elemental Birds were seen here."
"Well, now there are two of them," said Skull. "The Firebird and the Thunderbird."
"Firebird," Prospero said thoughtfully. "And he is not here with you?"
"He left us," said Cedar sullenly. "Took off looking for friends and never returned.
Garudan says we can't trust Firebird anymore."
"Ah, yes. Fenikus is a shifty old bird," said Prospero. "Forgetful. Probably overdue for a
tuneup, whoo!" The old owl chuckled at some private joke.
"Tuneup?" Cedar repeated. "What does that mean?"
"Yeah, I didn't think Firebirds ever needed their brakes checked and their oil changed,"
said Skull.
"No, no, not like that," said Prospero. "What your Firebird needs is his heart
changed."
"That, I'll agree with," Skull replied. "Just one question: how do you do that?"
"Is Firebird's nature," said Prospero, as if that was obvious. "It is in his name. Fenikus.
Phoenix. Do you know anything about the Phoenix of legend?"
"That was that bird who set itself on fire and then hatched out of an egg again," said
Skull, proud that he actually knew the answer to a question.
"Right," Prospero replied, "and your Fenikus is the original for that story. One thing even
Garudan does not realize about his brother, because it is one trait they do not share. Garudan
purifies himself by the choice of his soul-brothers, moving from one to another so that his
essence is kept in constant flux. That is the way of air. But Prospero remembers Fenikus from old
days, and he knows something no one remembers any more. The nature of fire is to burn and die,
leaving nothing but ash. The longer the fire is left untended, the less like a fire it becomes, yes?
Same for Firebird. He begins good and pure as fire, but the longer he burns, the more corrupt he
gets. He must renew himself every once in a while and be born again. He doesn't like it. Too
proud, is Fenikus. Thinks he can get by without help. Bet he hasn't done it."
"Okay, I'll believe that," said Skull, who hadn't understood half of what had been said.
"So... you think Firebird will behave better if he gets renewed, or whatever you said?"
"Right," said Prospero. "Would be a good idea to try it, I'm thinking. Will be nothing but
trouble if your own patron has turned against you."
"So, how do we get him back on our side?" asked Cedar.
"Well," Prospero replied, "the first thing to do would be to kill him."
*******************************************************************
Charla was eavesdropping on a very interesting conversation. High court was being held
in Zedd's throne room, an interesting parody of a justice system that she usually enjoyed
watching. When the old king had still been in power, it had been customary for the people to
come to him to hear court cases and judge their fairness. In these times, the king's throne room
was used for meting out punishment to transgressors. Charla saw a number of grim-faced guards
holding a variety of offenders in the back of the room: a brave young man who'd been caught
trying to escape the city walls, a young woman who had stolen bread to feed her children, and
several citizens whose sleeves had been ripped away to show off their telltale copper bracelets.
Thorald was also there, lurking in the shadows and trying not to be seen - not something that was
likely to work in the court of this king.
"Captain," Zedd barked, his growling voice cutting through the murmur of onlookers and
the woman's quiet sobs. "I see you've finally made it here. The news must be very good this
morning, for you to be so eager to share it. Quit sniveling, stand forth, and report."
"Yes, highness," said Thorald, stepping out into the center of the room. He neared Zedd's
throne and dropped to one knee. "I am at your service, as always."
"Yes, yes, never mind all that. I've heard it before," answered the king testily. "Quit
stalling already."
"He's just observing the proper formalities," Charla reminded him. "You ordered him to
do so on pain of death. You can't have it both ways."
"Ahem, yes, so I did," grumbled Zedd. "Anyway, now he ought to be finished. Tell me,
Captain, how have your men managed to foul things up this time?"
"My men have asked that I bring you a message," said Thorald, choosing his words
carefully. "Last night, as we pursued the leader of the rebels who call themselves the Copper
Band, we saw... well, you aren't going to believe this, and I wouldn't either if I hadn't seen it
with my own eyes, but... we saw the Thunderbird."
There was a communal gasp from all onlookers. A few of them made signs against
danger; others looked up with sudden hope.
"Did you really?" asked Zedd suspiciously. "And how do you know this wasn't
just some trick, or an illusion? How would you even know a Thunderbird if you saw one?"
"That's what it said it was, and I didn't hang around to argue with it," Thorald replied. "It
made all the street lights go out and turned the fog into a thunderstorm. My men fled in fear, and
I had no choice but to leave with them. Otherwise, I would have stayed and faced him and his
minions."
"Minions?" repeated Zedd. "Elaborate on that."
"There were two of them, besides the Band leader. A golden bird with fiery wings, and a
man in an outlandish black costume."
"Entirely black?" asked Zedd. "Or patterned in red? And with a purple mask and purple
wings?"
"It is as you say, all-seeing one," said Thorald.
"That Falcon!" Zedd roared. "He's found me again! How could he have done that? It's
been over ten thousand years! How could he still be alive?"
"Falcon?" repeated Thorald. "Begging your pardon, highness, but of what import is a
bird?"
"No bird, you numbskull," Zedd answered. "A warrior calling himself the Dark Falcon.
He is my sworn enemy. I thought I had seen the last of him with the downfall of Tien, but if he
has returned..."
"My lord," Charla interjected smoothly, "I move we continue this discussion somewhere
more private. There are doubtless things we will want to discuss that are not meant to be heard by
common ears."
"You do come up with a good idea every once in a while," Zedd replied. "All right,
everyone, out of here! Not you," he added, glaring at Thorald. "You stay right where you are."
Thorald sighed and did as he was told, settling back into the uncomfortable kneeling
position he'd been holding. The other guards and their captives shuffled out, herding their
captives to wait in the antechamber.
"Now we can discuss this matter in peace, more or less," said Charla. "I have a few
contributions to make that I don't want anyone else to hear."
"I don't see what the problem is, begging your royal pardons," said Thorald. "What did
this Dark Falcon person do to you? He didn't look all that dangerous. He looked kind of stupid,
really, if you want my opinion."
"Nobody does," said Zedd, "and for your information, it's the Dark Falcon's fault that I
lost Tien, the war against Zordon, and am now forced to wear this shape instead of my proper
form, which is why I don't like talking about him."
Thorald cringed as he watched the air around his ruler flare red. "Sorry I asked."
"You should be," answered Zedd. "I hadn't seen or heard from him in eons. I had
expected him to be dead by now."
"You can fix that," said Charla. "We'll just find him and kill him. Torture him a while
first, if you like. I'll help."
"Silence, woman! It's not that easy. If it had been, I would have done so years ago."
"Ah, but then you didn't have me," said Charla smugly. "The Dark Falcon is admittedly a
great warrior, but when he is without his powers, he's just an ordinary man."
"Sure, we'll just keep him from using his powers, then," Zedd answered sarcastically.
"That'll be a cinch. How do you think we're going to do that?"
"Very simply. We just take them away," Charla replied. "Or rather, we ask the Firebird to
do it for us."
"Have you lost your mind?" asked Zedd. "Even if we could find the Firebird, he'd
incinerate us as soon as look at us."
"Guess again," Charla replied. "The esteemed Firebird may be powerful, but he has his
weaknesses. Beautiful women are one of them. Long ago, he gave me a token of power that binds
him to me. He'll do as I tell him. Watch."
With a graceful gesture, the sorceress pulled a feather out of the air and held it up for all
to see. It was six inches long, elegantly curved, and shimmered in every color of the rainbow. A
small portion of the air around it seemed to take on a pale haze as every object nearby dulled in
comparison. A gentle rain of sparks fell from it briefly, vanishing before they could touch the
floor. She waved the feather in an arc above her head. A few seconds later, there was an
answering flash, and the Firebird appeared near the roof of the throne room and swooped to land
at Charla's feet.
"You called, my lady?" he inquired. Then he glanced up. "Oh, it's you again.
Hello. You recovered better from the accident than I thought you would. How remarkable."
"Don't take that tone of voice with me, you technicolor featherduster," Zedd snapped.
Charla shrugged. "He can't help it. He was born a snob."
"I was not. I was simply raised to have an honest idea of my own brilliance."
"Hmm. I see what you mean," said Zedd.
"Great stars and comets," Thorald whispered, staring at the bird. "You really do
know the Firebird!"
"I know him quite well," answered Charla smugly. She turned back to the bird. "Listen,
Fenikus, dear, we're having a little problem we thought you'd like to help us with. Would you be
interested in doing us a little favor?"
"Anything for you, beautiful lady," Firebird answered.
"Fine," she replied. "We don't like the Dark Falcon. Get rid of him."
"You mean, kill him? But I can't do that," Firebird protested. "I'll lose all
my powers if I take the life of an innocent."
"So don't hurt him, then," Charla replied. "Just take his powers away. You made him;
you can unmake him."
"Hmm... Yes! I could do that!" Firebird replied. "He's been getting to be a
nuisance, anyway. Won't take orders at all, and he's been mixing up with my brother as of late.
It's time I did something about him, anyway."
"This creature would turn on his own warrior just like that?" Zedd remarked. "A natural
turncoat... I think I like him."
"And once the Dark Falcon's powers are removed," Charla added, "we can give them to
someone else - someone who'll use them properly, to further our own causes."
"But not just anyone," Firebird warned. "The Dark Falcon powers were
meant to be used by Aerials. Anyone who uses them has to have at least a little Aerial blood in
them, or they won't work. Only the Storm Raven's powers will adhere to someone of pure
human stock."
"Well, there goes that brilliant idea," said Zedd. "What good are powers if you can't give
them to anyone you want? There haven't been Aerials on Oryllia since I took control, and there
are no Tienese left... not that I know of, anyway."
"Perhaps not, but there are halfbreeds," said an unexpected voice. Everyone turned to
look at Thorald.
"And just what is that comment supposed to mean?" asked Zedd.
Thorald shrugged. "Aerials sometimes chose to crossbreed with humans. After a while,
the crossbreeds lost their shapeshifting talents, so they're indistinguishable from human beings,
and thus, they were left alone while the pure Aerials were destroyed... and my great-great-
grandfather was half-Aerial."
"He speaks the truth," said the Firebird. "The mark is there, even more
strongly than the current Falcon. It would be child's play to transfer the powers to him. All I'd
have to do is convince my young warrior to put an end to his adventuring. That should not be
difficult. He is not the bravest of men."
"Excellent," Zedd chuckled. "This works out very nicely. If I have the Dark Falcon on my
side, no one would dare contest my power, and we could put a stop to that meddlesome Copper
Band once and for all. See to it! I have to get on with the rest of my judgements."
"As you wish, my lord," said Charla. "I wish to leave now. Meetings are so monotonous.
Come, Captain. You may escort me back to my chambers."
"I'll go see where my wayward warrior has gone," Firebird announced. "I
shall return shortly." He was gone in a flash of colored light that left a faint smell of
brimstone on the air.
Zedd barely noticed as Charla and Thorald slipped soundlessly out of the judgement hall
and into a side stairway. He was well aware, or thought he was, of what the two got up to when
he wasn't looking, and he didn't particularly care. He figured a woman with her reputation was
going to chase men behind his back anyway, and as long as she and the captain were busy with
amorous pursuits, they wouldn't be causing trouble.
"There are times," Charla remarked to Thorald, "that I really and truly wonder if his mind
wasn't damaged more in that accident than he says it was."
"What do you mean by that?" Thorald asked.
"I don't think it's even crossed his mind that we might decide to cross him," she replied.
"We should, though. It's a perfect opportunity."
"You have my attention. What's on your mind?"
"Firebird assures me that the young man who carries the Dark Falcon powers currently is
nowhere near a hero - weak, foolish, and cowardly - and yet he still was able to single-handedly
end Zedd's war. Imagine what could be done by a man of your strength and wiles. Imagine what I
could do with all the magic of the Firebird at my disposal."
"I see what you're getting at," Thorald replied. "You know, I begin to tire of being called
'Captain.' Do you think 'King' would suit me better?"
"I rather fancy being called 'Queen,' myself," Charla replied.
"It suits you well, my dear," Thorald replied. "Shall we retire to discuss our plans at
greater length?"
"Discussion only," warned Charla. "We don't need to make the Firebird jealous this early
in the game. But it wouldn't hurt to drink a toast to our success... to the end of Lord Zedd, and
the end of the pathetic creature who calls himself a Dark Falcon."
**********************************************************
"Kill him?" Skull repeated. "But-but-but I don't think I could..."
"Not permanent," said Prospero. "Isn't that how the legend goes? Bird dies, bird is
reborn. Told you he didn't like it."
"I wouldn't, either," said Skull.
"Garudan told us he died," Cedar commented. "He was allowed new life because he died
for a good cause. Is that what Firebird has to do?"
"Whoo! No!" Prospero hooted. "Good thing, too, or he'd never do it. No, he dies the
usual way, by fire. Dying's easy. Being reborn... not so easy. Needs help."
"What kind of help?" asked Skull.
"A woman's help. A special woman. A Firebird woman. They are special, and very rare.
Women with the nature of birds and the spirits of fire, who can share their life-force with Fenikus
to make him strong again. Not all of them good, though. Firebird's last helper was very wicked
woman. Still is, whoo! Is partly her fault. You need to find a better one for him next time."
"I'll see what I can do," said Skull. "As a matter of fact, I might even know where to find
one of those Firebird women."
The conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door, and Pyrrin peeked inside,
looking worried.
"I hate to interrupt," he said, "but there's a Firebird here looking for you."
Cedar sighed. "How does he always know when we're talking about him?"
"Guess we'd better go talk to him," said Skull. "I have a few words I'd like to say to him,
too, I think. Where is he?"
"Upstairs, at the surface," Pyrrin replied. "You'd better go do something about him. I
don't like anything that noticeable hanging around the front door. If Zedd were to notice and send
someone to investigate, we'd all be in trouble."
"We'll get rid of him," said Skull. "Thanks for lunch, Prospero. Thanks for the info.
Come on, Cedar. Let's go see what Firebird wants."
Pyrrin led them back to the surface, looking around worriedly as if he expected Zedd's
warriors to already be waiting in the wings. Instead, all they found was the multicolored
Elemental Bird perched haughtily on the tip of a broken pillar, looking down on them from a
fifteen-foot height.
"There you are!" he said. "I've been looking all over for you. I have some
interesting news for you."
"Is that a fact?" Skull replied warily. He didn't like the look on the Firebird's face;
anytime he looked that cheerful, there had to be trouble going on.
"Indeed," Firebird replied. "You might even appreciate it. You see, I've
found you a replacement."
"Replacement?" Skull repeated.
"Yes. I knew you'd be pleased," said the Firebird, preening. "I noticed you
never seemed to enjoy this superhero business very much, and, well, to put it bluntly, you aren't
very good at it. I've found someone much more suited to the job, so-"
"Wait a minute!" Cedar protested. "Are you saying that you don't want Eugene to be the
Dark Falcon anymore?"
"That's it exactly," Firebird answered. "All he has to do is hand over his
powers and go home - back to Earth, or Tien, or Terra Venture, or whatever he prefers. Or he can
stay here if he likes; it's all the same to me. The same goes for you - I'm sure the new Falcon
would appreciate your help, but you are welcome to return to your home."
"And what if I don't want to give up?" asked Skull. "I like being the Dark Falcon.
I don't want to quit! I was just getting good at it!"
"That's debatable," said the Firebird. "It was your job to protect Tien, wasn't
it? Well, you failed. Have a look around, if you want. The planet of Tien is gone here. You hear
that? There's nothing left of it - just an empty spot in the universe where it used to be. It was your
responsibility to keep that from happening, and you royally blew it. I won't sit here and let the
same thing happen to Oryllia, so I'm giving your powers to someone who can use them
properly."
"You're lying!" Skull shouted, his hand clasped protectively around his amulet. "You're
lying to me, and you're not taking my powers!"
"Oh, yes, I am," Firebird replied, "and there's nothing you can do about
it!"
There was a flash as he dropped from the point of the pillar and landed on the ground in a
swirl of blinding lights. When they cleared, the bird was gone, and in his place was a man
dressed in blazing white clothing. Skull stared as he took in the details of the costume - the same
feather patterns he'd always seen on his own suit, but picked out in rainbow shades instead of red
and violet, and the Firebird's aquamarine eyes blazed from behind a golden mask.
"Do you want to tangle with me now, Eugene?" asked Fenikus. "I don't think you do. In
this form, I'm more powerful than you could ever be."
"We'll see about that," Skull replied. "Will you help me here, Cedar?"
"Always," she agreed.
They shouted their words of transformation, and the battle began. The Firebird watched
with a look of smug amusement as the Dark Falcon rushed him, deflecting the attack with a calm
flip of one rainbow wing, using his other hand to punch Skull in the gut, making him stagger
back with the wind knocked out of him. Cedar swooped in screaming, but the Firebird flipped
out a laser and shot her back with rapid pulses of white light. Skull heard her scream as she fell,
landing painfully on a heap of sharp stones, and the sight of his friend being hurt unleashed
waves of fury. Bad enough that the Firebird was trying to steal Skull's source of pride and
identity, but to be hurting Cedar, his loyal friend...
Firebird's memory was selective; he could remember Skull as a bumbling clown, but he
couldn't have imagined he'd suddenly find himself staring into the eyes of an angry warrior who
matched him glare for fiery glare. Skull slowly drew his sword, all the while giving the bird a
death look.
"Uh-oh," Firebird said.
Skull sprang. Firebird tried to dodge, but Skull had been expecting the move and changed
course in midair with a flip of his wing. They both hit the rocky ground, but Skull had the upper
hand and used it. He raked the sword across Fenikus's chest...
...and fell back with a cry of pain, staring in shock at a smoking gash across the front of
his armor.
"Fool," Firebird spat, laboriously raising himself from the ground. "You and I are
connected to each other. I am your power source. If you kill me, your powers will go out with
me."
Skull gritted his teeth in anger, but deep inside, he knew the bird was right. On Terra
Venture, when they had fought the Thornspike monster, he had felt a sensation of wrongness
when the Firebird had come under attack. But he had to kill the Firebird somehow - he was
dangerous, and he would never cease to be so until an end was put to him. What could he do?
"You've got no choice but to give up," Firebird replied. "I'm going to have those powers,
whether you give them to me or I take them by force."
"You - you can't kill me," said Skull. "Garudan told me so. He said if you kill someone,
you'll lose all your powers, too."
Fenikus smiled, and Skull felt a chill.
"I am not allowed to murder innocents, yes," said the Firebird. "However, you tried to kill
me, and I have the gashes to prove it. You turned on someone who was trying to help you, and
that means if I fight back, it's nothing more sinister than self-defense. Hand over your amulet,
Eugene, or I will kill you."
Skull stared at the Firebird, trying to read the expression on his face, and saw nothing but
insanity.
*It's always been there. Why didn't I see it? Prospero's right; he's out of control.*
With a deep sigh, Skull shifted back to his natural form and slipped the amulet off,
moving it as if it weighed a thousand pounds. He dropped it in the dust at Firebird's feet.
"You come to your senses," Fenikus replied, scooping up his prize. "Good for you.
Farewell, Eugene. From now on, learn not to meddle in the affairs of Immortals."
"Near Immortals," Skull snapped. "You're a poser and you know it, and you won't get
away with this."
A fireball flew in his direction, but he stood firm. No matter what Firebird said, he knew
he was innocent, and if he died he'd take Firebird with him. Besides, nothing could hurt as much
as giving up the amulet did. Perhaps Firebird knew that; the bolt fizzled out inches short of
reaching its target.
"Let that be a warning to you," said Firebird sulkily. "Next time, I won't miss."
With that, he shifted back into bird-form and flew away, dragging half of Skulls' soul on
a chain in the shape of a silver amulet. Skull turned away sadly and went to check on Cedar. She
had morphed back into human form and was lying dazedly on the rocks. He lifted her up gently.
"Cedar, are you all right? Are you hurt?" he asked.
Cedar's eyes fluttered open. "What happened? Did he take your necklace?"
"Yeah," Skull sighed. "There was nothing else I could do. He was too much for me.
Guess I'm still not much of a hero, huh?"
"You did all you could. It is not your fault you can't fight off an Immortal."
"You're always trying to make me feel better," said Skull. "Why do you do that when I
always wind up letting you down?"
"You only would have let me down if you had given up without a fight," said Cedar.
"You haven't failed yet. You won't know for sure if you've failed or not until the day you die. As
long as you live, there is a chance to set things right."
"Maybe so," Skull agreed. "Anyway, I know I'm not giving up just yet, not while
Firebird's got my amulet. I don't care what he says, it's mine, and I'm not letting him keep it."
"Then I'm staying with you," said Cedar.
"Are you sure?" Skull replied. "I don't want to see you get hurt again. Neither one of us is
safe here."
"All the more reason to stay," said Cedar. "We're partners. We have to be here to protect
each other."
Skull smiled a little. "That's what I figured you'd say. Too bad I'm not up to doing a
whole lot of protecting right now. This is one of the times I start to wish a real hero would step in
and take over."
"You'll think of something," Cedar assured him.
Skull nodded. For once, he had thought of something, and now a plan was beginning to
hatch in the back of his mind. Right now, a real hero was needed, and he thought he knew just
where to get one... or more.
"You know who would come in handy right now?" Skull asked. "The Power Rangers."