Chapter 16: The Map of the Slave Trade

Meanwhile, in the dimly lit Nosedive mansion, Edna Nosedive was seated at her desk, her sharp eyes scanning a letter that had arrived earlier that day. Her feathers bristled with anger as she read the words about her son's failure to retrieve the stolen goods and the humiliation he had suffered at the hands of the Buzzard boy. But her expression shifted into something akin to a smug smile as she reached the end of the letter. It seemed that she had other plans in motion, ones that would hit the vultures and buzzards where it hurt the most: their futures.

"Edmund," she called out, her voice cold and sharp. "Get in here, boy." Her son slunk into the room; his feathers ruffled from the sandstorm. He knew he was in trouble, but he didn't expect the look of pure fury on his mother's face. "What have you done?" She hissed, holding up the letter.

Edmund looked down at his talons, unable to meet her gaze. "They got away," he mumbled. "But I'll get them next time, I swear."

Edna slammed her fist on the desk, making the inkwell rattle. "Next time?" She spat. "You've had more than enough chances, and you've failed me every single time." She paused, her breathing heavy with rage. "But it seems fortune has not entirely abandoned us." She picked up a piece of parchment from the desk, her eyes gleaming in the candlelight. "I've received a letter from some... sympathetic lawyers in the city."

Edmund looked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "They're going to help us get rid of them?" He asked, his voice eager.

"More than that," Edna said, her smile cold and calculating. "They're going to make sure that those scavengers never rise above their station." She unfolded the parchment, revealing a series of legal-looking scrolls. "They're drafting a law that'll keep buzzards and vultures out of the schools and the good jobs."

Edmund's eyes lit up with malicious glee. "That's brilliant, Ma," he crowed. "They'll never be able to compete with us then."

Edna's smile grew wider. "Exactly," she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "We'll show them that no matter how fast they fly or how much they try to fit in, they'll always be nothing but carrion feeders."

The next day, as promised, two well-dressed crows arrived at the Nosedive mansion. They were Mr. and Mrs. Finch, a pair of sleek, sharp-beaked lawyers from the city, known for their ability to twist the law into shapes that benefited the wealthy and powerful. They had arrived in High Wind Gulch with a set of documents that could change the future of the town forever. Nobody but Edna and her son had known of their visitation. She wanted to see that she did not make a mistake of sending Edmund to do anything that might raise too much suspicion from the sheriff and the rest of the townsfolk, realizing it was not a good idea to have her son take anything from that buzzard brat she despised.

"Good evening, Mrs. Nosedive," Mr. Finch said with a sly smile, his eyes glinting in the flickering candlelight. "We've come with news of your... endeavor."

Edna's heart raced with excitement. "I do hope it's good," she said, her voice low and measured. "Edmund's been eager to know how soon he'll be free of that... burden."

Mrs. Finch cackled; her eyes gleaming. "Oh, it's more than good," she assured. "We've got a few influential feathers ruffled in the city council over at New Cattleton. They're more than willing to see your vision come to fruition."

"Ma," Edmund whispered, his eyes wide with excitement. "Does this mean Pa's coming home?"

Edna's smile was cold and hard. "Not yet, my dear," she said, stroking her son's feathers. "But we're closer than ever." She turned to the crows. "So, what do we need to do to seal the deal?"

Mr. Finch cleared his throat, his beak a shiny black against his crisp white shirt. "We need a few more signatures, and some...persuasion," he said, his eyes darting to the side. "But fear not, we've got connections that'll make those pesky judges sing a different tune."

Edna nodded, her mind racing with the possibilities. "I'll make sure you have what you need," she said, her voice filled with a deadly sweetness. "But be discreet. I don't want any of the townsfolk catching wind of this before it's too late."

The crows cackled in unison. "You can count on us," Mr. Finch said, his eyes gleaming with greed. "We're the best in the business when it comes to...persuasion."

Edna nodded, her feathers ruffling slightly. "I expect nothing less," she said, her voice cool and collected. "And remember, discretion is key."

Mrs. Finch's eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. "We've got it all planned out," she said, her beak curling into a smug smile. "The townsfolk will be none the wiser."

Edna leaned forward; her interest piqued. "And who is this... key you've found?" She asked, her eyes narrowing.

Mr. Finch leaned back in his chair, a smug look on his face. "Mr. Otto Bulloney," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "He's got a son named Oscar. Bright kid, full of potential. And he's got a bit of a... grudge against Callahan Condor."

Edna's eyes narrowed. "How so?" She asked, her interest piqued.

"Well," Mrs. Finch began, her beak curling into a knowing smile. "Otto's got a bit of a... complicated history with Callahan. It seems their families have had a... rivalry, shall we say, for generations. And now that Oscar's coming of age, he's eager to prove himself."

Edna's gaze sharpened. "And how do we plan to use this... rivalry to our advantage?" She asked, her voice cold and calculating.

Mr. Finch leaned in closer, his beak almost touching hers. "We'll play on young Oscar's ambitions," he whispered. "Make him believe that he's fighting for a noble cause. That by helping us, he's not only making his father proud, but also saving the town from the likes of Callahan Condor."

Edna's mind raced. If they could manipulate this Oscar Bulloney into doing their bidding, it could be a powerful ally against Callahan. And if anything were to happen to the condor, the town would be in chaos, ripe for the taking. "How do we get him on our side?" She asked, her eyes gleaming.

Mr. Finch leaned back in his chair, his feathers ruffling slightly. "Leave that to us," he said with a knowing smile. "We've had... discussions with your husband Edward. He's quite the charmer, even behind bars."

Mrs. Finch picked up the thread of the conversation, her eyes gleaming. "He's been busy forming a little... group of supporters. They call themselves the Black Hoods."

Edna's heart skipped a beat. "What do they do?" She asked, her voice low.

Mr. Finch leaned in closer, his eyes glinting with malice. "The Black Hoods," he whispered, "are a secret society of... let's call them, vigilantes. They've taken it upon themselves to rid Moo Mesa of the vulture and buzzard scourge."

Mrs. Finch picked up the story, her voice dripping with enthusiasm. "They're like a pack of hunters," she said, her beak curving into a grin. "They track down those scavengers wherever they hide, no matter how deep in the shadows they crawl." Now she and her husband were getting ready to reveal what happens to any village or hidden town inhabited by buzzards and vultures and what becomes of their homes.

Mr. Finch took over, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "They capture the bad ones, the ones that don't know their place," he said, his eyes glinting with a hint of malice. "And they sell 'em to the slave traders. It's a... profitable venture, to say the least. Cheaper and more economic than wasting enough money for a trial where they might end up being let go with no sentencing."

Mrs. Finch leaned in even closer, her voice a hiss. "And Edward," she said, her eyes gleaming with a twisted kind of excitement. "He's got a real... flair for it. He finds it boring to just kill 'em all. He's got a taste for watching them suffer, knowing they'll never be free again."

Edna's eyes grew wide as she took in the implications of what the Finches were saying. "So, you're telling me," She said slowly, "that Edward has a list of slave markets where vultures and buzzards are still being sold."

"Oh, it's more than just a list," Mrs. Finch cooed, her eyes gleaming with excitement. She slid a rolled-up parchment across the desk to Edna. "It's a map, my dear. A map to their misery." It was the entire map of Moo Mesa.

Edna's eyes grew wide as she unfurled the map, her heart racing. The dots and lines were scattered like a sinister constellation, each one representing a place where vultures and buzzards were bought and sold like cattle. The very thought of it made her feathers stand on end. But she couldn't deny the power this information could give her. With this map, she and Edward could not only control the destiny of Baron and his family but also crush the spirit of any hope that tried to rise among the oppressed.

Edmund leaned over her shoulder; his curiosity piqued. "What is it, Ma?" He asked, his voice a mix of excitement and fear.

Edna rolled the map back up, her eyes narrowed. "It's a map," she said, her voice cold. "A map to our future."

Edmund looked at her in confusion. "But, Ma," he protested. "What do slave markets have to do with us?"

Edna's smile was as sharp as a predator's beak. "Everything, my dear," she said, patting his head. "Everything." She turned to the Finches. "You're sure this map is accurate?" She asked the question to make sure that it was all clear and correct without making any mistakes.

Mr. Finch nodded solemnly. "We have our... sources," he said, his eyes gleaming. "We've made it our business to know where the real power lies in Moo Mesa."

Mrs. Finch produced a small, leather-bound book from her satchel, the pages yellowed with age. "These are the names of those who've bought and sold all those scavengers," she said, her voice dripping with disdain as she handed it to Edna. "From the lowest pirate to the highest government officials. They know how to cover their tracks well."

Edna's eyes scanned the pages, her feathers standing on end as she recognized some of the names. They were indeed powerful figures, some of whom had been rumored to have questionable morals. Her mind raced with the implications of such knowledge. "What's the price for this... information?" She asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her heart.

Mr. Finch named a sum that was steep, but not unmanageable. "Consider it an investment in our mutual future," He said, his eyes gleaming. "Once this law passes, and those buzzards and vultures are out of the way, High Wind Gulch will be ripe for the taking. And with our combined influence, we'll make sure that the Nosedive name is at the top of the pecking order."

Edna's heart raced with excitement. This was more than just a way to get rid of the Buzzards; this was a path to power. She counted out the gold coins, feeling their weight in her claws. "You have a deal," she said, sliding the coins across the desk. "Now, let's talk about how we're going to persuade Otto Bulloney to see things our way."

The Finches exchanged a knowing look before Mr. Finch spoke up. "Leave that to us," he said, his beak curling into a smile. "We have a meeting with him tonight. We'll plant the seeds of dissent, make him question Callahan's leadership. And with the right... incentives, he'll be eager to join our cause."

Mrs. Finch nodded. "The Black Hoods are already making a name for themselves," she added. "But they need a figurehead, someone who can lead them in the right direction. Someone like your husband Edward."

Edna felt a shiver of excitement run down her spine at the thought of Edward's power growing even from behind bars. "And what of Callahan?" She asked, her voice icy. "How do we ensure that he won't interfere?"

Mr. Finch leaned back in his chair, his wings spreading slightly. "Ah, Callahan," he mused. "He's a tough nut to crack, but we've got a few tricks up our sleeves."

Edna nodded thoughtfully. "Good," she said. "Keep me informed." She dismissed the crows with a wave of her wing, her mind already racing with plans.

Days later, Edna and Edmund set out on the dusty trail to the distant federal prison where Edward was held. The journey was long and tiring, but the anticipation of what they were about to do kept them going. As they approached the towering stone walls, the air grew thick with the stench of despair and regret. The prison was known for holding the most dangerous and notorious criminals across Moo Mesa, and the thought of her husband being one of them was almost too much to bear.

Inside the grim, cold visitation room, Edward sat on the other side of the bars, his eyes sunken and feathers dull. The moment he saw Edna and Edmund, a spark of hope lit up in his eyes, and he straightened up. "My dear," he whispered, his voice raspy from disuse. "You've brought him to see me."

Edna nodded, her eyes never leaving her husband's. "I have," she said, her voice firm. "But we're not here to reminisce, Edward. We have work to do."

Edward leaned closer, his feathers bristling with excitement. "The Black Hoods," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "They're mine. I've been... cultivating them from the inside."

Edna's eyes narrowed. "How did you manage that?" She asked, her voice low.

Edward leaned closer; his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intelligence. "It's amazing what a few gold coins and the promise of power can do," he murmured. "Especially in a place like this."

Edna nodded, her feathers ruffling slightly. "What's the plan?" She asked, her voice low and urgent.

Edward's eyes had been shining with a malicious glint. "The Black Hoods," he murmured. "They're going to be our key to power. With them at our command, we can make sure that the likes of Callahan Condor never set foot in High Wind Gulch again."

Edna felt a thrill of excitement mixed with fear. "But how did you manage to organize them from inside?" She whispered back, her eyes darting to the guards that patrolled the perimeter of the visitation room.

Edward's smile grew even more sinister. "Let's just say I've had... certain privileges," he murmured, his eyes glinting. "And I've made some... very persuasive arguments."

Edna nodded slowly, understanding dawning in her eyes. "So, you're telling me that the Black Hoods are ours," she whispered back, her voice tight with excitement. "And with this map, we can control the fate of every buzzard and vulture in Moo Mesa." She wondered if Edward would answer that he had some help from the Finches himself.

Edward's eyes flicked to the guards before returning to hers. "Exactly," he murmured, his beak barely moving. "We'll start with High Wind Gulch, then spread our influence outward. The map is our key, Edna. With it, we can ensure that the Nosedive name is feared and respected across the land."

Edmund watched his parents, not fully understanding the gravity of their conversation. He fidgeted in his chair, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. Edna placed a comforting claw on his shoulder, using the moment to pass Edward a small, folded piece of paper, hidden from the guards' view. It contained a series of numbers and symbols that only they would recognize as the secret code they had developed during their courtship.

"The Finches," Edward murmured, his eyes scanning the paper. "Clever birds, indeed. They've been... most helpful." He winked at Edna, confirming her suspicion that their alliance was not just coincidental.

Edna felt a strange mix of admiration and fear for her husband's cunning. "Otto Bulloney," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "He's a powerful ally to have. And the Finches told me about his son Oscar."

Edward nodded, his gaze sharp. "Otto's always had a soft spot for gold," he said, his voice low and calculating. "And with the Black Hoods' help, we can ensure that he gets a taste of power he won't be able to resist."

Mrs. Finch had been the one to smuggle the letters into the prison, hidden in the hollowed-out pages of innocuous-looking books. The coded messages contained Edward's instructions, detailing how to organize the Black Hoods and bend them to his will. The Finches had seen an opportunity in Edward's charisma and had chosen to invest in it, hoping to use him as a pawn in their own game of power.

Now, as Edward revealed their involvement, Edna couldn't help but feel a twinge of suspicion. "Why would the Finches help you?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Edward's smile grew even more sly. "They see potential in us," he murmured. "They know that with the Black Hoods under our command, we can cleanse Moo Mesa of the buzzard and vulture scourge. And once we've done that, the path to power will be clear."

Edna's mind raced with the implications. The Finches had played a dangerous game, and now they were all entangled in it. But if it meant securing a future for her son and their kind, she was willing to take the risk. "And what of Otto Bulloney?" She asked, her voice low. "What role does he play in all of this? Have the Finches told you about his son?"

Edward nodded. "Otto is ambitious," he said, his eyes gleaming. "He wants his son Oscar to take over the family business, but he knows that with Callahan in power, his chances are slim. We offer him an alternative, a way to gain influence and prestige. And with the Black Hoods at his disposal, he won't be able to resist."

The plan was simple but brilliant. Once Callahan was out of the way, Otto would support Edward's return to High Wind Gulch, but Edward would come back as someone else. He would assume a new identity, one that would allow him to move freely among the townsfolk without arousing suspicion. "We'll need to be careful," he warned Edna. "We can't let anyone know who I really am, not yet."

Edna nodded, her heart racing with excitement and fear. "What name will you take?" She whispered, her eyes searching her husband's.

Edward leaned back, a slow, smug smile spreading across his beak. "Ah, that's the beauty of it," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I've thought of a name that will suit me perfectly. Once I'm out, I'll be known as... Hawkspur."

Edna raised an eyebrow. "Hawkspur?" She repeated, skeptical. "That's a bit... obvious, don't you think?"

Edward chuckled, a sound that sent a chill down her spine. "It's perfect," he said, his voice a low purr. "Everyone will know the name, but they'll never suspect it's me."

"But your face," Edna protested. "Your voice. They'll know it's you."

"Fear not, my dear," he said, his voice a low murmur. "The Finches have connections. They've made arrangements with a certain... gypsy from New Port-Leans. She's quite skilled at crafting potions that can make even the sharpest memories fade."

Edna's eyes widened. "A gypsy?" She whispered, her mind racing. "What kind of potion could do such a thing?"

Edward's feathers rustled against the bars. "One that comes from the darkest corner of New Port-Leans," he murmured, his voice a mix of excitement and trepidation. "A place where the line between fact and fiction is as thin as a spider's web. Some say the gypsies there can make you forget your own name if the price is right."

Edna's eyes widened, a shiver running through her. "But is it safe?" She whispered; her voice barely audible over the clanging of the prison. As much as she wanted to get her husband out of here, she wanted to see that the potion did not come with any dangerous side effects if used incorrectly.

Edward chuckled darkly. "Safe? Perhaps not," he admitted. "But it's the price we must pay for power. The gypsies of New Port-Leans are said to deal in the stuff of legends, Edna. They're whispered about in the darkest corners of the town, feared and revered in equal measure. Some say they can control the very fabric of reality with their potions and spells. Same that goes for the voodoo witches from the swamps. Of course... the trick is not to use more than one drop of that potion when using it. And see to it that nobody else knows we have it, or else they might swipe it away and turn it against us."

Edna's eyes narrowed, considering the risks. "And what if someone finds out?" She whispered, heart racing with a mix of excitement and dread. "What if they suspect it's you behind the new face?"

Edward's smile never faded. "Not if my new cult gets to them first before that happens," he promised, his eyes flicking to the Black Hoods emblem etched into the stone wall of the visitation room. The symbol of fear and power that he had cultivated from the shadows of the prison was now theirs to command.

AN: Welcome to the part where we learn about the origins in how the wicked cult that call themselves the Black Hoods all started, the one that would someday grow in secret and create trouble in Moo Mesa without the government detecting them or the law on their trails as they know how to cover their tracks.