Broken
Chapter 27: The scent of trust
The moon was nearly gone and a thick layer of rainless clouds had hidden away the stars. With only the faintest light to guide him and no sound other than the gentle, steady wind that moved crossways to his new nest, Two Hearts would once have found it a relaxing night for flying. He could barely scent the bitter waters of the ocean below him. There was the faintest hint of a small island upwind, a mix of earth and sand and the milder odor of greenery that was not busy soaking up the sun. Plants growing in the days of the green season were as raucous in their scents as the prey that ate them.
While his surroundings were peaceful and calm, Two Hearts' mind was certainly not. His thoughts were as tangled as a husk full of eels and about as pleasant.
The presence of a new Gatherer in Fire Nest put a hard frost in his liver. That single Kin threatened to destroy everything he and Featherstone had done for both Fire Nest and the preytooths. Every Kin of breeding age that had gone back to Fire Nest to choose a mate and drop a clutch was now in thrall to the new invader. It was as though the Great Eel had never been grounded. The discovery left him with a feeling of helplessness that reminded him of being stuck in that large hole in the ground with an injured tail. At that time he had seen no way out and had deeply feared his situation would be the end of him.
This time he was free, able to fly on his own once more. He also had a flight mate with whom he could speak. Yet for all that had changed since Featherstone freed him from the hole in the ground, he saw no way to deal with the threat of the new Gatherer. His sire's story, told to him by his dam, had already shown the foolishness of attacking such a powerful Kin once it was in control of a nest. To attack the Gatherer would bring the whole of the nest against those who sought to free it. Their success against the Great Eel was only possible because of the preytooths; the masses on the beach that broke open the mountain, scattered the nest and drew the enormous parasite out.
The worst part, the absolute innard-twisting worst part was that the critical advantage he'd had in bringing down the Great Eel could not be used again. The preytooths may have drawn their enemy out of hiding, but it was the little one on his back that made him believe anything was possible as long as they were together. Two Hearts didn't know how he would remove the Gatherer from Fire Nest but he absolutely would not involve Featherstone in his plans. He'd managed only by the tips of his claws to keep his flight mate alive after that fierce battle. He had no intention of taking such a risk a second time.
But without his flight mate there was only himself and a mouthful of young Kin to deal with the largest threat any nest could face. No matter how he looked at it, he couldn't see a way to win against such a powerful enemy.
Two Hearts wished he could speak to Sunskin, the firescale who'd been the First Hunter of Fire Nest most of his life. She had been one of the wisest Kin he'd ever known. It had been her knowledge that had kept the Nest from falling to the circling sickness during his fledgling days. She'd known to instruct those who felt the twisting in their heads to find and consume the thorny branches and leaves of certain bushes that grew on nearby islands. Sunskin told him she had first supported his sire in his effort to drive off the Great Eel after it arrived. When that attack failed, Sunskin grieved the pointless losses and had then encouraged cooperation. Soon after, she and the others of breeding age were enthralled. Both Gatherer and its Nest survived and thrived. Many seasons after that she disappeared during a gathering at the preytooth nest.
If Sunskin had lived to see Fire Nest freed and the Kin truce with the preytooths, would she have willingly allowed another Gatherer to settle within her home? Or would she have once again risked failure and death to drive it off as his sire had? Two Hearts could not see a clear answer.
He greatly wished he could speak to Long Eye as well. Surely she would have some wisdom to offer her only surviving hatchling. He remembered the rumble of her voice, the warmth of her wing draped over his. He even wished he could call back his sire and hear his roar, see the spread of his wings, ask him a bellyful of questions.
His wings were tired. He'd flown more than he ever had since being grounded. It was wonderfully liberating to have his flight back and full control of his body restored. Yet it was also like flying with wings he couldn't feel. He was too light, as though a part of his body was missing. He often had to remind himself not to wait for cues from his flight mate on where to go.
The tranquil blackness of the night felt very lonely to him.
Thoughts of his wingless Kin helped warm his liver against the worries that roiled in his mind. But even this lacked its usual lift. He wanted to get back home, to touch ground at his new nest and curl up in their woodcave to sleep. This would not be possible, he knew. Featherstone had been deeply distressed at being left behind and would doubtless ask many questions of him when he returned. There were also going to be questions from his rider's sire.
They needed to know the truth. They deserved to know. The whole of the preytooth nest would need to know if they were to survive the coming changes. But to present such knowledge could spur the preytooths into rash, fearful action. Much like his doomed sire, they might once again fly against a treacherous storm. They would likely be convinced of a certain victory because of the death of the Great Eel.
Two Hearts knew that victory had been mostly luck. And luck couldn't lift one like wings or defend one like fangs. It was a fickle defense and a foolish offense.
So what could he do? Delay telling Featherstone until he knew what action he should take? Tell him right away and let the preytooths come to Fire Nest again? Now that he thought on it, he wasn't certain they would come again. Not after their losses the last time.
How could they attack? Should they attack?
His thoughts were chasing each other and making him feel ill. He wanted even more to go to Featherstone and cover him with a wing while they slept, to have the little preytooth's scent in his nose. Even the presence of his flight mate's sire wouldn't have disturbed him.
Fluttering orange light crept up on his awareness as he neared the preytooth nest. Their fires were burning as usual, trying to appear brave amidst the darkness that smothered their sight. He opened his jaws wide and sent out a low, stuttering growl that signaled he was of the nest he was approaching.
"Soft tailwinds!" The greeting came from above and behind him and startled him somewhat with its closeness. He'd been so distracted by his thoughts he hadn't noticed the sound of wings nearby. For an instant he forgot to keep his hind claws firmly around the sticks that controlled his dead tail fin. The unexpected presence of Kin near him and the frightening feeling of his tail starting to lose its grip on the air brought a muted squeal from his throat. Having learned his lesson well, he tightly gripped the wooden pieces to correct his balance and gave the return call.
"Swift hunting!"
He should have expected to meet someone on his return to the nest. His nest mates would be anxious to know what their watcher had seen on his ranging after discovering thralls among them. The weight of being singularly responsible for his new nest's safety came back to him. He had two nests to worry about and a Gatherer that threatened both. How could he carry such a burden?
The brightscale that had joined him moved to a friendly distance and level with Two Hearts. The bright gurgling voice told him it was Flicktail. "I am glad to see you've returned. That was a long ranging."
He hadn't considered his prolonged absence might worry his nest mates and now wished he'd warned them of it. "There was much to learn. And much to see."
"What of the thralls? Why are they here? Where are they from?"
Even with his night sight, the darkness hid Flicktail's posture and expression from him. The rushing of air past them hid the other male's scent. But the sharp, screeching tones in the other's voice told him all. His nest mate was as worried as he was, perhaps more because he did not yet have the knowledge Two Hearts had gained.
The ghostwing gave a weary rumble. "Let us speak on the ground. It has been a long flight."
The preytooth watchers had left their high perches for the night and the fires he'd seen from far away were burning low. There was no one to see two Kin landing on the cliff tops near the nest. Two Hearts gave a contented growl as he eased his wings up against his body. He was Kin and he lived in the air but the nest was still where all came to rest. It was good to feel it beneath his paws.
Flicktail landed in front of him, facing him. He immediately pressed his narrow chest to the grassy ground and paid rapt attention to the nest's watcher. Two Hearts settled down as well and let the muscles of his chest, back and wings relax as he considered what he had to say. It took many heartbeats to find the words but Flicktail was patient.
"This you know: Kin form the nest and the nest forms its Kin. Each takes on the other's color and voice and temperament."
"This I know."
"Neither Kin nor nest can change without changing the other. They must fly in unison or fall."
Flicktail hesitated. He was disturbed by the watcher's words, he felt sure. "This I know."
For a moment, Two Hearts found it hard to speak. He groaned, a sound of exhaustion and fear. He saw no way to soften the blow. "Fire Nest has fallen. A new Gatherer has come. Those Kin who lived there with the Great Eel are once again trapped. And they probably feel comforted by its presence."
Flicktail gave a slight keening sound. "There was no struggle, no fight?"
"I saw no signs of such. The breeding Kin may have welcomed it even as they began dropping their clutches."
"Welcomed?" Flicktail was incredulous.
"Think on this; those Kin have never known a breeding season without a Gatherer. They had never lived in a nest without its presence until the last season of white. It is all they have known. To them..." The claws of his forepaw clenched into the turf. "They may feel that their old, familiar nest has been restored."
The brightscale keened again, with more distress. "But... to fly the skies in freedom... to hunt only for one's own needs. How could they want..."
"I don't know. But I scented it. It's there. And I don't know how to drive it away."
Flicktail stood, a shadow creature with only the barest hints of the lustrous colors of his scales showing in the dim light. "We must! We cannot abide-"
"I agree. It must be driven out or killed. I just... cannot see the path." Two Hearts laid his head down on his forelegs, tired and dejected.
His nest mate stared down at him. The sound of his wings flicking and fluttering in agitation told him the brightscale was upset. The weight of it all was pressing down on him again and he saw no way to soothe the other.
"You're the watcher."
Two Hearts closed his eyes, needing no reminder of his responsibilities to the nest. He heard Flicktail's spiny tail thump the ground. The spines lifted and rattled slightly before they lay back down, a sure sign of dismay.
"You're the First Hunter. You grounded the Great Eel and freed Fire Nest. You bonded the first preytooth and brought about the Kin truce."
He opened his eyes again and gave a raspy growl of irritation. "I am one Kin with two nests under my wings. I am tired and cannot think clearly."
Slowly, as though the weight that pressed down on the ghostwing had found him as well, the brightscale sank to the ground. Still Flicktail stared at him, turning his great head this way and that. He gave a soft chirrup that signified his full attention was on his black scaled nest mate. His eyes closed once more.
"The watcher must act."
"The watcher must sleep," he grumbled in response.
His heart slowed and he tried to still his mind. Once more he wished he was with his rider. He wanted sleep to lift the weight from him.
Two Hearts' breathing softened. He remembered belatedly that he hadn't cleansed the ground before he lay down. One night won't hurt, he decided. The thoughts that had plagued him circled around the edges of his mind. He tried to ignore them. He thought of Featherstone.
"This you know:" Flicktail chirred quietly. "The watcher is the nest. In all skies, against all winds, it rides under his wings. The watcher's life is the nest."
Long Eye's own words. How did Flicktail know them? He opened his eyes and stared at his nest mate in confusion.
"Two Hearts," the brightscale said gently, "you must call the nest. Your kin need to hear your words. They need to know what you've seen."
A spark flared in his liver, driving away sleep in spite of his weariness. Flicktail was right. The new Gatherer was larger than anything else and the threat it posed was more important than his desire to rest. The Kin in Fire Nest needed his help. So did the preytooths. Featherstone would, too.
There would be no rest for him this night. "Yes," he admitted. "Heart truth." He glanced over at the preytooth's woodcaves, darkened lumps under a starless sky. "Go and rouse the sleepers."
Flicktail stood once more, bouncing on his sturdy legs. "Yes!"
"Quietly," he admonished. "Wake no preytooths."
The brightscale ducked his head in acknowledgement and gave a quiet trill. "And the breeders on the far shore?"
They were more vulnerable than any others. "Yes. One of each pair. All must know of the danger."
With a satisfied squawk his nest mate lifted and made for the woodcaves. Each Kin who heard would move to spread the call. A nest as small as his would come together in a very short time. He closed his eyes to wait.
Two Hearts did not sleep as he waited for the nest to gather. His mind was once more agitated and would not stay still enough for rest. Being watcher of a Gatherer's nest had been too easy, he mused. Nearly all Kin went scouting for food and any other from a rival nest seldom returned after learning of the Gatherer's formidable presence. Now that he had to lead a nest against such a powerful enemy, he wondered if he would have as much fire in his liver as his sire had.
The doubts had been gnawing on him harshly when he heard the first beat of wings over his head. It was the bonded splitneck, Truthseeker. As sometimes happened with that special breed of Kin, the two minds within the single body were skilled at working together to dig out the twists and tangles of a Kin's problem. Truthseeker was often approached by Kin whose liver had overheated their minds and needed a clear answer to their difficulties.
As the wide body met the ground, Two Hearts stood and softly warbled a public welcome. It was returned with warmth and tinged with concern. Both heads leaned gracefully forward to touch noses with him. "We greet our First Hunter," said the female. The male added, "We are grateful for his safe return." In unison they said, "We hunger for his words." Finally the male asked, "Is the watcher in need of food? You have been gone long and we have just hunted."
Hunting had crossed his mind during his long flight. He would have liked to but he simply did not trust himself to make a successful catch in the wide waters while his skills with his dead tail were still uncertain. "I would be most grateful."
The male had made the offer but it was the female that curled her long neck almost into a circle as she worked to expel the offering. A large flathead with only part of the tail missing soon lay before them. Two Hearts thanked them and found the fish woke a fierce hunger in him. Not wanting to seem unappreciative he ignored his persistent hunger and instead asked, "How are your riders?"
"More disjointed than ever," the female answered. "Some new disturbance has upset them," observed the male.
"What disturbance?"
"We cannot fathom it," said the male. The female continued with, "The male hardly approaches us now."
The two separate heads turned to one another and spoke openly. Two Hearts wondered if they did so for the benefit of others or if they simply forgot to speak internally at certain moments.
"The male has been discontent for some time," offered the male.
"So with the female."
"They do not know how to resolve their discontent."
"Their minds are not strong," admitted the female.
"Heart truth. We have eaten things with stronger minds than theirs."
New wings approached. A bonded stonebelly who had taken the flight name of Yellowbreath came close, calling for acceptance of his landing. This time Truthseeker gave the answer. Once the ponderous body had touched ground and the wings had folded, the splitneck spoke quickly of the watcher's long flight and considerable hunger. Yellowbreath happily brought up a large portion of a squealer and offered it to the nest's watcher. Two Hearts accepted with much appreciation. Prey held within a stonebelly's innards tasted better than almost anything else he knew. It was seldom he was able to enjoy such a morsel.
Soon more Kin joined the calling. Offerings were made to the nest's watcher until Two Hearts no longer felt hollow. He looked up at the sky and judged less than half the night was gone. He still felt tired but the low chatter of the attending Kin kept him focused on his task. When the first breeder from the far shore landed there were many questions about how the clutches were faring. The news from those nesting pairs was good; the first nests built on the preytooth's island were secure and hunting was good, especially in the nearby waters. Sound eggs and healthy females in all the nests spread warmth to many livers. It was almost possible for Two Hearts to forget why they were coming together this night.
Flicktail returned with the last two he knew were coming. Two Hearts looked at the collection of Kin with dismay. So few, so young. "I do not scent Swimmer. Has anyone seen her?"
An unbonded stonebelly rumbled that he had seen her hunting the deeper waters several days before but had not crossed her path since. There was someone else missing, too.
"What of Crush Claw? Where is he?"
Truthseeker's female head told him the young firescale had left with his bond partner before the last storm and they had not returned. Two Hearts was uncertain what that might mean.
"Very well." He could wait no longer. There was immediate silence among the Kin. All eyes sought his. He looked around at the familiar faces of his new nest and realized he was in entirely new territory. He'd never called a nest before, never spoken on such important matters to assembled Kin. As new and unpleasant as the situation was, Two Hearts felt the moment called for something to mark the occasion.
He fluttered his wings a moment, trying to settle them comfortably. Finally he sat and raised his voice just enough that all could hear him.
"My nest mates, my Kin. Our nest has no name. We share it with the preytooths we once fought. The only watcher is young and has too few stories behind him to know the best path to take. The First Hunter..." His voice roughened with the mixed rumble of humor and regret. "First Hunter lives in the watcher's scales and so has the same weaknesses."
There were immediate growls of denial but he twitched his wings upward slightly to ask for quiet. He looked once more at the Kin that surrounded him. He had come to know them well. The smallest nest makes the tightest bonds, as the saying went. There had been many Kin in Fire Nest he'd never spoken to before the grounding of the Great Eel. Not so here. He knew them all. It was no surprise to him that he wanted to protect them all, more so than those he'd protected at Fire Nest. These were Kin and kin to him. There were no others in this gathering.
The feeling swept over him with such power he couldn't speak for a moment. This was the other half of his liver. Featherstone had taken up much of the room within him with his friendship and faithfulness. But these Kin were just as important. They'd stayed here, flying the unknown winds and risking the unseen storms. Flicktail had been right to speak Long Eye's words to him. These Kin lived under his wings. He needed their lift as much as he needed Featherstone's.
And with that thought came the rush of cold back into his liver. The Gatherer was out there, ready to do what all Gatherers did; it would bring all Kin under its wings and hold them there without remorse or care. It would hold them, use them and even consume them if it felt the need. How could one immature ghostwing stop it?
"A Gatherer has come to Fire Nest. Its thralls have come here. If nothing is done, all will become as it was before, with the Great Eel."
The presence of thralls had been known or suspected by those who stayed within the preytooth's nest. They only grumbled quietly with the confirmation of their concerns. But the breeders who had left to build their nests before the troubles began squawked in fear and outrage. Doubtless they wanted their hatchlings to fly untroubled skies and were far more disturbed by the news. Two Hearts opened his wings to their full span and raised them high. Quiet fell over the assembled.
"I am the watcher." He cast a meaningful glance at Flicktail. The brightscale twitched his head in acknowledgment. "This is my nest. You are my Kin. We have known the taste of clean winds and the joy of hunting for ourselves. Our hatchlings must have these things."
Back again; the heaviness was on him once more. The Gatherer was such a powerful enemy, an unbearable weight to lift. How could he protect those who warmed his liver so much?
"This threat cannot be ignored. It must be grounded, or driven off. I do not yet know how this can be done. I can only promise I will do all I can to keep us safe."
An older brightscale spoke next. It was a male of considerable size and bearing who'd come in with the breeders.
"It was you who grounded the Great Eel." All eyes went to him and he looked around at the gathering. "It was Wind Rip who freed Fire Nest." He turned back to Two Hearts, gazing with one eye then the other. "You will do as you did before and we will support you in whatever way we can."
Tendrils of cold wormed their way into his liver. This one did not understand. "It is not as it was before. Much is the same but too much is different. This Gatherer can not be grounded as the Great Eel was."
The brightscale, a Kin much older than himself and certainly one who'd known a life of thralldom, stared at him directly for many heartbeats. His great lungs worked, pushing deep breaths in and out of his open mouth. He tasted the air, seeking to know what scents Two Hearts gave off. Without signaling what he thought of those scents, he asked, "Why not?"
It felt like a challenge and sparked his liver more than it should have. It took some effort to calm his mind and speak clearly. "The Great Eel was very old. It was far closer to its end than its beginning. It was mindless rage that drew it out of Fire Nest to attack the preytooths on its own. Its anger and age did more to kill it than Featherstone and I did." He addressed the rest of the gathering. "This one has recently left its egg nest. It will be young and strong, willful and smart. It will let Fire Nest defend it without showing itself, as Gatherers do."
"If it is young, let its inexperience be its grounding," the brightscale responded. "Any stories it hears from Kin in Fire Nest should only serve to worry it. Its nest has been broken before and can be again."
Why didn't this brightscale understand? "Its inexperience will not hinder it. It will simply let the Kin of the nest fight in its place. We would be fighting our former nest mates and dying long before we could reach it."
Only the wind answered after that. Its quiet moan filled the darkened spaces between the bodies of his nest mates. The scent of distress grew as each Kin began to understand what had chilled Two Hearts liver so badly.
After much silence had passed, he was about to ask their leave to rest. He still had much to do and he wanted very much to sleep. Before he could make a sound, a stonebelly spoke.
"No."
It was Yellowbreath. She was bonded to the large, round preytooth Featherstone had always called 'legs of fish.' Two Hearts had never understood the purpose of that name. No fish had legs; of that he was certain. Yellowbreath slowly moved closer to him and sat.
"The only way the new Gatherer can be grounded is the same way the old one was. Fire Nest can not be allowed to interfere." She looked around at her nest mates. "It is as the watcher says. There can be no success with the breeders protecting the Gatherer."
Two Hearts had much respect for Yellowbreath. She was only slightly older than he yet she spent as much time thinking as Truthseeker. Often her long periods of thought would be mistaken for sleep.
"How can we separate them? They are as many as scales on a Kin and we are but a few."
"It must be the same as before," she insisted. "The preytooths must drive them away."
Before he could speak, some of his nest mates objected most strenuously. He noticed they were all among the breeders who'd come from the far shore.
"Preytooths cannot be trusted!"
"They were there to attack the nest!"
"They were helpless before the Great Eel!"
Stonebelly wings were too small to signal their desires. Instead, she did as all stonebellies did and spat a tiny ball of molten stone into the ground. The crack of sound and the splash of liquid rock throwing up dirt and burnt grass brought the assembled Kin to order.
"Does no one here remember as I do?" Her ponderous gaze swept over her nest mates, including Two Hearts. "The Great Eel was grounded because it was alone. Its nest had abandoned it. Those Kin fled the preytooth attack. Without the preytooths, we would still be thralls in its grip." She turned once more to him. "The preytooths didn't fall to the Great Eel's deception during their attack. They are either unaffected by its scent or are not so easily enthralled. They must drive off the nest. Then you and your flight mate can deal with the new Gatherer."
Two Hearts was certainly pleased to realize her observation about the preytooths was correct. Never once during that brief, terrible fight had they shown any signs of succumbing to the Gatherer's trickery. But he knew the answer would not be so simple. He had spent the whole of the previous day gnawing on this very problem and he knew the fatal weakness of such an attack. "Yellowbreath, I'm sorry but I must question your hunt. The preytooths did not intend to drive off the nest when they attacked. They were there to ground us all. It was only the shock of having the nest broken with their rock throwers and seeing them at Fire Nest for the first time that frightened them away. If the attack had been any different, the Kin of Fire Nest would have turned every preytooth on that beach into a pile of charred bones."
"Have them use the rock throwers again. What worked before-"
"No, Yellowbreath, think of what has happened." He looked around at the assembled Kin listening to their words. "Most Kin who returned to Fire Nest have come to know this nest. They have stood among the preytooths, eaten their fish and perched on their woodcaves. There would be no ice in their livers under such a repeated attack. The preytooths would only be seen as a threat to Fire Nest and to the Gatherer. There would be no fear to drive them away."
"Preytooths are clever creatures," Yellowbreath said patiently. "They must find a new way to frighten off the breeders. There is no other way, as you say. If they remain, we cannot succeed."
Now Two Hearts felt an impatience that was not normal for him. All these thoughts were dried fish entrails to him; he had scented them and dismissed them as unworthy of attention. Still, he needed to explain to his nest. It was as important for them to understand as it would be for the preytooths.
"You have been part of this nest as long as I have. You've seen what's happened here since the season turned. The preytooth's stomachs have soured to Kin." He lifted his eyes toward the woodcaves in the distance. "I don't know that they will do as Kin ask."
Yellowbreath stared at him, obviously in deep thought. She breathed heavily and shifted her hindquarters slightly. Her wide, blunt tongue slipped out to wash the tip of her snout.
"You must speak to your flight mate. He must be our voice."
This caused a stir among some of the Kin gathered. A different stonebelly spoke up, asking, "You can speak to your bond partner?"
Two Hearts couldn't quite keep the impatience from his voice as he rumbled, "He is my flight mate. Yes, I can speak to him though it is not always easy or clear."
The large brightscale seemed unconvinced. "Preytooths can truly speak? They have deeper thoughts in those little round heads?"
"Yes, they are a kin." It was easier to subdue his irritation with the elder Kin. It was only natural to afford respect to those who had survived so long. "Ask the ones who have bonded with one."
Yellowbreath spoke up again. "I do not know about deeper thoughts, but my bond partner certainly has language. All the preytooths do. This I learned in their stone pit as I fought them. Since the Kin truce, I have learned many more of their words." She paused as a few other Kin who had taken riders to the skies confirmed her claim. Turning back to him, she continued. "Your rider, he is the one we need. He can be our voice. He can speak to the preytooths and to Kin in the fight to come."
Panic seized Two Hearts by the throat and he stood, partially extending his wings. "No! I will not have him near the Gatherer! I will not risk it!" Heat and cold flashed through his liver at the same time, greatly disturbing him.
Yellowbreath studied him for a bellyful of heartbeats. No one else spoke, having heard the power of the watcher's statement. A ghostwing's will was not to be taken lightly. She growled wordlessly once, then took a step toward him. "You speak for him? You are his voice?"
Two Hearts ignored the question. "He has already given enough for us."
She gave an inquisitive grunt and sat down again. "He has given no more than you have." She looked around at the Kin that surrounded them and then back to him. "Will he not protect his nest? Is he not watcher for the preytooths?"
He knew Featherstone's sire filled that role. "That is not his place."
"Where is his place?"
Two Hearts spoke without thought. "With me."
Once more she stared at him, silent in her thought. On this point he would not move. It had been too close and he would not risk it again.
Now he heard the deep breaths of all Kin around him. He was distressed at the thought of bringing his flight mate near the Gatherer and all those near him could scent it. He felt certain it did not warm their livers at all to sense such fear in their watcher.
Yellowbreath stood once more and moved close. She tipped her large head down slightly to gaze directly into his eyes. After a moment she leaned forward and touched noses with him. "You call him your flight mate. You changed your flight name to tell all Kin his place in your mind. Yet you place him outside your nest?"
He had been distressed before. Now he felt winter slowly closing its teeth on his innards.
"Is he prey to be kept for your own nourishment?"
His wings drooped. She knew. She scented his fear, his failing and declared it unworthy. And in doing so she placed the value of Featherstone's life directly against his responsibility to his new nest. The presence of the Gatherer in Fire Nest would endanger both nests and all who lived within. And Yellowbreath had made it clear how wrong it was to put his flight mate's welfare above any others.
Two Hearts hadn't thought he could hate Gatherers more than he already did. He now knew he was wrong.
"He is all to me," he said quietly. "I... I have lost my breed, my sire, my dam. Featherstone took my flight. He held my life in his claws. But then he gave it all back to me." He lowered his wide head, humbled to explain his weakness to the nest. "All I have now comes from him. I fear for him, greatly. I cannot lose him." He raised his head again, some of his will threading heat into his liver. "I must not lose him!"
Yellowbreath crooned compassionately to him, sharing her understanding of his feelings with him and all the Kin present. "I hear the warning of the watcher, I see the love of the First Hunter for those he protects. I think perhaps this preytooth is actually of your breed. He has inspired a Kin's love in you." She nosed him again, wanting to make her support clear. "But will the Gatherer respect your desire to protect him? Will it leave this nest in peace at your request?" Her eyes would not leave his. "Or will it threaten all the Kin and all the preytooths here?"
It was not a question to answer. It was a question to teach. Two Hearts was silent, unable to respond in any case.
"Will you not let your flight mate help protect those who care so much for him?"
In his mind he pictured Featherstone charging the Gatherer with a piece of sharp metal, his dead leg hampering his movement. Such an encounter could only end with the preytooth's death.
The stonebelly glanced at the end of Two Hearts' tail. "You say he took your flight and gave it back to you? I say he is a preytooth with a powerful mind. He thinks in ways no Kin ever has. Let him use that strength against the Gatherer."
That sounded like a dubious strength to him when pitted against the size and power of the largest Kin known. But he saw the wisdom in Yellowbreath's words. He would have to speak to Featherstone about it. Perhaps his flight mate could, indeed, help find a way to ground this new threat.
Sleep found him before he could look for his flight mate. The Kin had left, the breeders taking the news of the Gatherer to their mates who had remained on the nests. Sun flight was still far off and Two Hearts saw no reason to wake Featherstone or his sire. In spite of all that was said, he still felt he was no closer to an answer. His thoughts foundered and sank. Finally he was pulled down into the blissful peace of sleep.
He woke, still alone atop the cliffs. The sun was well into its journey across the sky and the clouds were high and thin. The ground around him was warming nicely and he could tell there would be many good lifting currents in the air around him. It would be a perfect day for a long, lazy flight. He wanted to find Featherstone and convince him to-
He curled his head around and looked at the thin strands of dried bleater skin that lay near his hind legs. He remembered. He could fly alone now, if he so chose.
But why? He missed his small wingless Kin and he knew Featherstone missed him. Even a long morning of idle sailing on the cool, moist winds didn't call him as strongly as being back with his flight mate.
Thoughts of his rider brought more memories. There were things he needed to discuss with Featherstone, things he needed to tell him. Things that were likely to distress him as much as leaving him had. He needed to speak to sire as well.
So he had the choice of a difficult conversation with Featherstone and sire or letting the wind carry him far away from anything troubling.
Two Hearts suddenly felt very heavy.
He rose to his feet, glancing at the collection of woodcaves in the distance. He spent a moment working his hind paws to get his sticks grasped correctly before he leapt up. His destination was downhill and not very far. He made do with a gentle glide toward Featherstone's woodcave, barely working his wings at all. When he was near, he let go of his sticks and cupped his wings to stall and land. He came down on all fours, flexing his legs and sliding to a stop. It was a simple trick he'd learned as a fledgling. He felt a momentary thrill of pleasure. He hadn't done his slide-stop since his fledgling days. It was good to be in control of his own flight again.
That stopped him. It was good, but it was Featherstone's doing. His flight mate had done so much for him. Since that moment they'd first met eyes, the little preytooth had seldom stopped trying to make things better for Two Hearts. And now he was about to drag his small friend into a fight that Kin hadn't been able to win on their own in countless generations. He was sure Featherstone would want to fight. That scared him almost as much as the presence of the Gatherer did.
It had to be done. Pushing the doubts from his mind, he stepped to the moving portion of the woodcave and nudged it with his nose. As it twisted into the inside space, he followed it in. Immediately the smells of his new home roused his feelings of protectiveness. He could smell the fire, the old food and the hot, oily scent of a preytooth's lair. A form was hunched over beyond the table at one end of the space. He took a step forward, calling to his flight mate. The form rose up, straightened.
This was not what he had wanted.
Two Hearts and sire surprised each other. He looked around and saw no sign of his flight mate in the lower part of the woodcave. Featherstone might be in the upper part, unseen. Before he could work his way up the cleverly cut log to see for himself, sire called loudly, "Kin!"
Preytooths may have had tiny noses and lived their lives scent-blind to the world around them but they told just as much about themselves through their scent as any Kin. Sire was stirring the air with anger, confusion and the ever-present touch of fear. The large preytooth stood and came around the table. The scents coming from him swept over Two Hearts like the crackling smoke from a territorial firescale's body. "Where have you been?"
He needed to speak to sire, but it would be easier with Featherstone to help. He raised his head and pointedly looked at the upper part of the woodcave.
"Lung Spasm is not here. He is looking for you."
Two Hearts groaned softly. This was going to be hard. He sat and tightly furled his wings, trying to look as non-threatening as possible.
"Where have you been?"
"Fly."
Sire gave a puzzled grunt. It took Two Hearts a moment to realize the big preytooth had none of the words Featherstone had learned. He moved to the place of ashes and tamped a flat spot for marking. He quickly made the dirt sign for flying.
A fluttering wave of a large foreclaw was matched with, "Not understand."
Two Hearts gave a frustrated huff and thought a moment. Then he looked at sire and lifted his wings a little. He moved them up and down just enough to mimic the effort of flying. Even catching this idea did not appease sire.
"Fly where?"
That was a harder question to answer so he just twitched his head in the direction of Fire Nest. This also did not seem to please sire but he said nothing for many heartbeats.
"You answer questions?"
He supposed that was as good a start as any. He said, "Yes," then nodded. Another idea came to him then. He slowly lifted his foreleg and extended his paw, as he had before their last 'talk.' He'd seen preytooths use the gesture with each other and hoped it would be taken the same way they used it. Sire looked down at the offered paw, his mouth curling unhappily. Despite what his mouth did, his scent lost much of its anger. A moment later, mouth flattening, sire put his foreclaw against his paw and gripped it. He grasped the foreclaw gently in return.
Sire sat on a chair, facing Two Hearts. He looked steadily into his eyes as his scent gradually calmed. A mouthful of heartbeats later he asked, "No Teeth, are you first of Kin?"
If he hadn't spent so many nights perched atop their woodcaves, listening to them speak and learning their words, he might not have understood the question. He knew preytooths got much lift from being the individual others followed. To lead other preytooths was often desirable among them. Asking if he was 'first of Kin' meant sire thought he held such a position within the nest.
Kin, however, did not treat each other as leaders and followers. The sky was too large to bother following another Kin if it went someplace objectionable. He supposed some of the roles Kin filled among a nest, such as a watcher or a First Hunter, might feel the same as what sire referred to. But 'first of Kin' sounded very different from watcher or First Hunter. Two Hearts wasn't sure how to answer, so he tried to be as truthful as he could. He shook his head up and down for 'yes', then side to side for 'no.'
Another wave of anger hit his nose. Sensing sire wanted more, he wrote in dirt sign, [most big of small group] It was as close as he could get. And still it didn't work.
"Not understand!"
A soft hiss spilled from his jaws. This was like his first talk with Featherstone on the sea stack, only grumpier.
He looked at his dirt signs, wondering what he could change to make them clearer. That was when he saw what he'd been doing with Featherstone without recognizing it.
Two Hearts had been chewing down his signs from difficult-to-draw pictures to simple lines that meant the same thing. It saved time and made learning new signs quicker. Sire did not know any of these new signs. Unless Featherstone had taught them to him, he would not have seen the first, large signs he'd made in the beginning. He would have to start with those once more.
Pressing the ashes flat once again, he drew a line with a large rise in the middle of it. Around it he drew various Kin in flight. He tapped the drawing, said, "Home," and tapped the woodcave's floor.
"Nest?" The sound preytooths made for their nest's name was short and did not translate to anything that made sense to Two Hearts. What they called their nest was of little interest. It was 'nest' and that was all it needed to be for them. He nodded to sire.
Then he moved a little way over and drew Fire Nest. He did his best to make it look like it was surrounded by fog and swarming with Kin. It took some time to make the drawing but sire didn't seem to mind. Indeed, the older preytooth watched with sharp attention. He pointed to Fire Nest and called it by the preytooth word for it. Two Hearts nodded again. Then he pointed his metal drawing stick at himself and tapped the drawing of the preytooth nest. "Yes," he said, nodding. He tapped Fire Nest. "No," he growled while shaking his head.
"You are first of Kin here only?"
"Yes." He nodded once more. It was still not wholly accurate, but it would do.
Sire thought on that, studying the drawings in the gray dust. At first he seemed to become calm. Then he leaned forward and anger rose up from him once more. "Why Kin take food?"
Two Hearts was baffled. How did sire expect Kin to live if they didn't hunt? His confusion agitated sire.
"Kin take preytooth food! They take bleaters, they take squealers! Will they fight preytooths next?"
Had any watcher had so difficult a nest to protect? Two Hearts was unhappy with himself for not considering the effect thralls would have on the preytooths. If his nest knew of the danger those scavenging Kin posed, surely the preytooths who had been their victims for so long would see and understand it as well. He had been so concerned about the Kin under his wings that he had forgotten Featherstone's kin.
But how much did they understand? Sire was asking why preytooth food was being taken. Did he suspect a Gatherer was responsible? Did he know anything about Gatherers and how they enthralled a nest?
Or, as the rising anger that filled the air seemed to say, did sire think all Kin were one and the same? Did he think that all Kin were becoming his enemies once again?
This was a far more dangerous situation than he'd thought. If preytooths saw all Kin as enemies it would mean the death of the Kin truce. It would make survival for both sides far more difficult and perhaps once again impossible.
It was plain to Two Hearts that he must explain the nature of Gatherers and the presence of the new one at Fire Nest. To do so, however, might push the preytooths toward a fight they would likely lose. The balance was so fine. It was like flying with cracked wing bones over water. Effort to reach safety might destroy what kept a Kin aloft while passive gliding might end in the merciless waters of the endless sea.
How could he explain?
Two Hearts struggled to think of a way to use his pictures to show sire that the Kin in his nest could be trusted while others from Fire Nest were both a danger and victims. He didn't want to thrust the Gatherer into sire's mind when there was a serious risk of a misunderstanding between Kin and preytooths. Sire needed an answer and he didn't know what to give.
The large preytooth was growing restless with Two Heart's hesitation. The Gatherer was the only thing sire might understand yet its exposure might end up killing many preytooths needlessly. He gripped his drawing stick tightly, hating the decision he was being forced into by an enemy far away.
He could see no other path. He crooned miserably, knowing he might very well be starting the destruction of the preytooth nest.
He moved back to the ashes and drew the answer to sire's question. Next to the picture he'd drawn of Fire Nest, he traced out a large, powerful body, massive wings, and huge jaws. He made it far larger than the other small Kin near it. And on its head, he tapped the spike six times to create the most distinctive feature of a Gatherer other than its size. Finished, he looked over at sire, a warbling moan telling of his unhappiness.
Sire stood, staring hard at the new lines.
"No, not another." He pointed with his foreclaw. "There can't be another, not like..."
Two Hearts lowered his head and nodded.
Fear grew large in the enclosed space. Sire stank of it. He sank back to his chair. "Not again, I can't..."
Two Hearts knew how he felt.
For sire, however, the desire to protect his nest and his kin quickly resurfaced. The eyes narrowed and the mouth turned down. The hot scent of anger burst forth and burned away the fear. He said something quiet, threatening. His eyes locked on the drawing, knowing now where to direct his liver's fire.
Sire pointed once more toward the Gatherer in the dust. "This where Kin go? From nest to there?"
So the preytooths had noticed their absence. At least this question had an easy answer. Two Hearts nodded.
"That Kin make others take preytooth food?"
Another easy answer, another nod.
Sire's considered this. Then his eyes narrowed and the anger began to build yet again. What had bitten him this time?
"Can Kin-" He said a word that Two Hearts didn't have. He gave a quiet, puzzled grunt. Sire's mouth curled down again and he repeated his question. Then he changed the words. "Not truth! Can Kin speak not truth?"
It felt as if every breath of lift was gone from his wings and he was falling with no hope of recovery. Why would sire ask such a question? Did he think he was word twisting all of this?
But wait! A Gatherer was a Kin that thrived on deception. Was that what sire meant? He pointed toward the six-eyed drawing and nodded energetically.
Sire glanced at the drawing but was not satisfied. "You? You can speak not truth?"
Where was this coming from? What possible reason could he have to think Two Hearts was trying to deceive him about something so important? He whined, feeling he was without any lift whatsoever.
Sire leaned forward in his chair again. This time fear and anger filled the room. The big preytooth felt this was very important. "No Teeth, can you speak not truth?"
If it was that important to Featherstone's sire, Two Hearts would answer. He nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering.
Sire slowly straightened in his chair. The fear and anger bled off to almost nothing. He stared, his eyes shifting to the Gatherer drawing only briefly. He pointed. "This is truth?"
Two Hearts nodded with more energy, not daring to look away.
Leaning back again, sire watched him silently for many heartbeats.
"How can I trust you?"
Two Hearts' lift was gone. He had no words, no dirt signs, no pictures that could show sire the fire in his liver. He was grounded by his own ignorance and the long-told stories of hatred and death between Kin and preytooths. The best he could hope for now was that the preytooths would not go hunting the new Gatherer. Perhaps he and his nest mates could find a way to deal with the threat on their own.
If only Featherstone had been there.
Featherstone!
Suddenly he remembered the hole in the ground, his wounded tail and the start of his strange new path. He remembered the gesture Featherstone had made, stretching out his foreclaw while turning his eyes away. Every moment of his new life since had been because of that gesture.
But it had been more than the gesture.
It had been the young preytooth's scent. In that place, on that most special day he'd taken in the shocking and confusing scent of a preytooth that feared yet trusted. The fear was not the fear of death, the fear of attack. That scent was almost identical in nearly every living thing he knew; a pulsing, tangy burst that often bloomed as forcefully as blood from a wound.
The little preytooth that brought him a roundback had scented of a softer fear, the fear of failure. It was the fear of setting one's own safety aside and letting another make a decision that could wound or kill. It was the scent of acceptance, of trust. For Two Hearts, at that moment, he could make no other choice than to accept.
The preytooth before him was Featherstone's sire. Surely his flight mate took some of his views from the teachings of this large person.
He took one slow step toward sire. The large preytooth leaned back slightly. He widened his nostrils and took in a deep, gusting breath, tasting the state of sire's liver.
There was a low anger, mild confusion and the taint of fear. Each waxed and waned moment by moment. But there was no killing rage, no bloodlust.
Two Hearts knew then it was time for him to do as Featherstone had done. He must trust the preytooth without knowing with absolute certainty it was the best path.
There was another scent mixed with the others, one he had finally gotten used to but never liked: sharp metal. He gazed down at sire's hip, where the small piece of dangerous metal lay hidden. Slowly and with great care he lifted his drawing spike in his paw and tapped the place where the sharp metal was. He looked back up to sire.
The preytooth scented of confusion; wariness marked his face. Two Hearts nodded and tapped the sharp metal again.
With equal care, sire pulled the sharp metal out from hiding. Two Hearts stared at it a moment, hoping he had chosen the right path. He lifted his spike and gently tapped the foreclaw that did not hold the sharp metal. The foreclaw twitched, but otherwise remained where it was. Then he put his spike on the floor and held out his other paw toward the sharp metal, hot and cold racing through his liver.
Heartbeats passed. Sire watched him closely. A strange swirl of conflicting scents enveloped them both. Violence did not seem forthcoming but neither did acceptance. Perhaps sire did not understand. Snow circled his liver. He held as still as he could, waiting and hoping.
Finally sire reciprocated, touching the flat part of his sharp metal against the dark scales of his paw. Two Hearts nodded, feeling the wind start to fill his wings once more. He slowly, carefully extended his spike toward sire's chest and very lightly touched it. Then he raised his own chest up slightly, giving the invitation. He held his wings completely motionless, forced his tail to the floor. Nothing must distract them.
Several heartbeats passed before he felt the press of metal against his chest. His path remained true; he took the last step. He raised his spike and ever so gently touched sire's throat. Sire's eyes widened and he saw muscles in the large body go rigid but the preytooth did not move. He lowered the spike and lifted his head, exposing his own throat. He closed his eyes.
Please understand.
Heartbeat after heartbeat passed, each hurrying the next. He scented no bloodlust; sire knew how close he and Featherstone flew. This was the right path. It had to be. It was the only one he could see.
The touch was there and gone. A spike of heat flashed through his liver, but he kept it contained. He lowered his head and gazed at sire. There was still confusion in his scent but the anger was much subdued. So was the fear. He nodded. They had established their trust.
Two Hearts knew this was better but still dangerous. He warbled softly, drawing sire's attention. He still didn't know how it would happen, but he knew Yellowbreath's claim that the preytooths must be involved was likely correct. He needed to get this last, critical idea across and he believed he knew how. He turned his own gaze to the Gatherer in the gray dust. He exposed his teeth and growled fiercely at it. Then he turned back to sire.
His drawing spike was made for dirt signs. It was nothing like sire's sharp metal. But it would do for the moment. He held up his spike, then tapped the sharp metal in sire's foreclaw. He turned back again to the drawing. It was not an attack any Kin would understand but he'd seen preytooths use sharp metal enough that he knew how it worked.
With an enraged shriek, he turned his spike's rounded end down and plunged it into the soft ash of the Gatherer's body. He released it and stepped back, looking back to sire meaningfully.
Sire understood. He raised himself up, glanced at the drawing and threw his sharp metal with terrible speed. There was a muffled ringing as the sharp metal and the spike contacted briefly.
Two Hearts looked at the twice impaled Gatherer and grunted his satisfaction. He looked up at sire. Sire nodded as well. His liver was bursting with sparks. His new nest had a chance.
(c)Wirewolf 2013
"How to train your dragon" and all attendant characters are copyright
Dreamworks Animation and used without permission
AN: I apologize for how long this took. I had a much harder time than usual getting started on it.