Darkwing (5 page)

Obligations?
Dusk glanced at his mother and saw her stiffen. What was Nova talking about?

Icaron exchanged looks with Barat and Sol, silent for a moment. “This is not a matter that needs to be discussed here,” Sol told Nova angrily.

“Oh, I believe it is,” said Nova. “And it should have been done years ago. This saurian in our forest is proof of that!”

Barat shook his grey head. “Nova, you speak without care!”

“Do not let her speak again,” Sol implored Icaron. “Silence her!” Barat agreed heatedly.

“Silence—that is the problem precisely!” cried Nova. “There has been too much silence for too long.”

“Enough!” shouted Icaron, and Dusk flinched. All eyes were on the leader, waiting.

“Nova, you have spoken recklessly, and without my consent.” He paused, glowering at the other chiropter. “But perhaps you are right,” he went on more calmly. “We should explain what happened in the past. There’s nothing shameful in it, and much to be proud of.”

At this Nova gave a quick snort. Dusk would have liked to bite her ear.

Barat and Sol looked at Icaron, waiting for him to begin.

Icaron’s voice carried out to the entire tree. “You’ve all heard something of the saurians. Thousands of years ago they were the undisputed rulers of the earth. Some of them were plant-eaters; many were flesh-eaters. Some walked erect on two legs. Others lumbered on four. A few could fly. They hunted one another, but also fed on the beasts, including chiropters. Like all beasts, our agility and relatively small size helped keep us safe. We could hide. We often took refuge in the trees, since most saurians were poor climbers.”

Dusk listened with rapt attention. A few of these things he’d heard before, but in less detail. Closing his eyes made it easier to concentrate, and he could let his head fill with images.

“The saurians were rapacious. They ate and bred and flourished. And we watched and waited, knowing they couldn’t survive forever. They were huge and strong, but without vast amounts of food they would starve; without the sun they couldn’t even warm themselves. On cool mornings they were sluggish until the sunlight heated their scaly skin. And yet they reigned and reigned until, thousands of years ago, the sky changed and they were all but wiped out. Some say part of the sky collapsed and crashed to earth, and the dust that rose blotted out the sun.”

Dusk shuddered as he imagined the sky thickening, coagulating with darkness.

“It became very cold. Anything that needed the sun suffered. Plants died first, then the saurians that ate the plants, and finally the flesh-eaters who fed on them. But we were able to survive. We were small and quick, and we needed little. As the world grew cold, the saurians grew cold with it, and died. Within our fur, we kept warm, and hibernated if need be. We weathered the long, cold night, eating insects and grubs and seeds. When it was over, the saurians’ giant carcasses were strewn across the earth. Still, some survived.”

Icaron paused, and then began a story that Dusk had never heard.

“It was then the beasts saw their chance. The saurians were weaker than they’d ever been; many were diseased, their scales rotting. But for all we knew, they would become strong again unless we did something. So, centuries ago, the beasts formed the Pact.”

Again Icaron hesitated, as though telling this story was not altogether easy for him. A pact, Dusk thought excitedly. It sounded secret and daring.

“The beasts knew they could never hope to defeat the saurians in battle. They were far too powerful. But the beasts could attack them in another way. Under the terms of the Pact, all the beasts agreed never to harm one another. They would work together to seek out saurian nests, and destroy the eggs. They would prevent a new generation of saurians from rising. It would take centuries, but eventually they would wipe out the saurians entirely.”

In the silence that followed, Dusk shivered. He did not know what to think. Truly it was an ingenious plan—chillingly ruthless too. But how else could small creatures ever hope to defeat such large ones? For a long, uncomfortable moment Dusk imagined all those helpless saurian hatchlings growing inside their eggs, and then having their shells ripped apart around them.

“The Pact was an act of genius,” Nova told all the chiropters forcefully. “It was a triumph of our intelligence over the sluggish might of the saurians.”

“It was barbaric,” Icaron replied evenly. “Especially since many of the saurians weren’t even meat-eaters. They posed no threat to us, but we destroyed their eggs nonetheless.”

“The eggs looked the same, regardless of the type of saurian they contained,” Nova countered. “So we needed to destroy them all. It was a matter of survival.”

“It was extermination,” stated Icaron.

“Call it what you will,” said Nova. “The beasts used to live in daily fear—”

“Fear, yes,” Icaron interrupted, “but every creature fears its predators. That is the way of things. The Pact was something unnatural. The Pact was a deliberate decision to rid the earth of the saurians so the beasts might reign in their place!”

Dusk had never seen his father so impassioned, and he looked anxiously at Nova, wondering how she could reply. He felt almost ill, for this kind of verbal battle was unknown to him. His father’s control was remarkable, the way his words never faltered, his voice never shook. But Nova too was commanding, Dusk had to admit.

“The saurians’ time was over anyway,” she said. “The Pact simply sped up the inevitable. It was what needed to be done. There was no alternative.”

“Of course there was,” Icaron scolded her. “And we chose that alternative.”

“Tell them, then,” Nova urged him, with more than a hint of mockery in her voice. “Tell them of this noble choice.”

Dusk was astonished by Nova’s insolence. Why did his father not silence her? Why did he not sink his teeth into her fur to reprimand her?

Instead, Icaron turned his full attention to the four families assembled along the branches. His chest swelled as he took a deep breath.

“For hundreds of years, the chiropters took part in the Pact. When I was younger, I too performed my duties hunting saurian eggs.”

Dusk glanced at Sylph, stunned, scarcely aware of the excited chittering that swept through the colony, echoing his own surprise. He’d been led to believe the saurians had died out hundreds of years ago. But they weren’t creatures of ancient times at all, they had populated the world of his own father! And he had hunted them!

“More and more,” Icaron was saying, “I felt misgivings about what I was doing. And I wasn’t alone. Sol and Barat felt the same—and so did your father, Nova.”

“My father’s opinions are not my own,” she retorted.

“There were twenty-six of us in total who decided we could no longer hunt and destroy saurian eggs,” Icaron continued. “So we rejected the Pact. It was not an easy thing to do. It didn’t mean just breaking with our colony. In some cases it meant breaking with our own parents and siblings and even children. It was very painful for all of us. We earned the contempt of the other beasts. We were deserters. Cowards. Our colony drove us out. We had to find a new home. We wanted somewhere remote, someplace where we could live harmoniously with other creatures, and raise our families in safety. We were extremely lucky to find this island. It has been the birthplace to practically all of you.”

“All we did was ignore the problem,” Nova told the assembly. “We didn’t solve anything. We just left others to do the work. There were no saurians on this island, but there were many back on the mainland, feasting on our fellow chiropters while we enjoyed our splendid isolation. It was selfish.”

Dusk looked worriedly back at his father, wondering how he would respond. Nova’s words were very persuasive, and he wanted his father to say something that would prove her wrong, and crush her defiance.

“It was a simple matter of conscience,” Icaron said. “We chose to avoid the slaughter.”

“It was the wrong choice!” Nova shouted.

“Nova, silence!” said Sol, enraged.

“Only the leader can silence me!” spat Nova. “If we had done our part in the Pact, we might have been completely free of the saurians by now. As it is, we may now have them on our beloved island.”

Dusk moved closer to his mother, seeking her solid warmth. The world suddenly seemed a much larger and more frightening place than it had just hours ago.

“You are fear-mongering, Nova,” said Icaron severely. He tipped back onto his legs, and his sails unfurled forcefully.

“We should all heed this saurian as a warning,” Nova said, spreading her own sails as if in response to a challenge. “We can’t live in isolation any longer. Now is the time to take up our obligations to the Pact once more. If this was a she-saurian, there will be a nest. A nest means eggs. I suggest we send a group to the mainland to confer with other colonies.”

“What happens on the mainland is not our concern,” said Icaron. “A crossing would be extremely dangerous. Have you forgotten?” He paused, and Dusk thought his eyes strayed to him and Sylph. “Nonetheless, to reassure us that we and all our children are safe, tomorrow I will organize an expedition to see if there is another saurian or a nest on the island.”

“It is extremely unlikely,” Sol told the assembly.

“That is a start at least,” said Nova. “But what of going to the mainland?”

“No,” said Icaron. “There is no need.” Barat and Sol nodded their agreement.

“And if we should find eggs here on the island,” Nova asked, “what will your course of action be?”

“There will be no eggs. But if we were to find any, you know my answer. Saurian eggs are not to be harmed.”

“Even in our own home, our own forest, you would allow these eggs to hatch?”

“We are here because we made a vow to abstain from the destruction of the eggs,” Icaron said. “To destroy the eggs now would be a terrible hypocrisy. I will not tolerate it.”

“That is not the decision of a leader.”

Dusk’s eyes widened as his father reared back, chest thrown out, and pounded the air with his sails, battering Nova with a wind that made her fall back, cringing.

“I have allowed you to speak your mind, Nova,” he shouted. “Do not make the mistake of thinking your words carry any authority! I will decide what is best for the colony and will continue to do so until the day I die.”

Dusk stuck close to his father for the rest of the evening. He felt safer that way. Moving about their nest as they prepared for sleep, he shadowed Icaron so tightly that his father almost tripped over him. Icaron looked at him sharply, but the annoyance in his face quickly faded.

“Everything’s all right, Dusk,” he said.

“Are we really safe?” he asked.

“Stop being feeble,” Sylph said, but he noticed she too was watching their father, waiting for reassurance. “Yes, we’re all very safe,” Icaron said. “This was the first saurian
I’ve seen since leaving the mainland. I doubt we will ever see another.”

Though his father no longer stood upon his leader’s perch, Dusk was aware of his power and authority as never before. While he felt protected within its aura, he was also a bit afraid, because he’d never seen Dad so angry and fierce. He hoped that temper would never be turned on him. He had a question, as insistent as an itch he couldn’t scratch, but he almost couldn’t work up the courage to ask.

“Dad? I’m just wondering …” His voice faltered. His father settled down beside him. “Go on.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell us about the Pact?” Icaron looked briefly at Mistral and sighed. “So many reasons,” he said. “When we came to this island, we truly felt we’d found some kind of paradise. There were no saurians, and it seemed we might never see any again. Why did our children need to know about the old world, with all its dangers and sordid history? We wanted to keep our children safe here.”

Mistral nodded. “The heads of the four families all vowed to keep it secret,” she said. “If we’d talked about the Pact, there always would’ve been a few fiery tempered chiropters who wanted to go back to the mainland and see the saurians, and maybe hunt them. But no one wants to see their own children harmed or killed. Even Nova, you’ll notice, has chosen to spend her life on the island. And until tonight, she kept her vow of silence.”

“Why did Nova even come,” Dusk wanted to know, “if she thought the Pact was such a good thing?”

“She wasn’t elder when we left the mainland,” Mistral explained. “It was her father, Proteus, who made the decision.”

“And it cost him dearly,” Icaron said. “It destroyed his family. None of his sons would come with him.”

“But Nova could’ve stayed behind too,” Sylph said. Icaron grunted. “Better for all of us if she had. But Proteus wanted her to come and she was obedient to his wishes.”

Dusk found it hard to believe that Nova could ever have been obedient to anyone but herself.

“It wasn’t simply a matter of obedience,” said Mistral. “Nova’s mate had just been killed by saurians while hunting eggs, and she was grief-stricken. She wanted to escape from the saurians forever, and the island was a haven.”

“Her father was an excellent elder,” said Icaron, “and I admired him very much. But Proteus was the oldest of our group, and not strong, and he died after only two months on the island. Then Nova became elder.”

“I always wondered how it happened!” Sylph said to Dusk. “No grubby sons hanging around, and she was the eldest daughter! It’s probably the only time there’s ever been a female elder.”

“But she never did find another mate,” said Mistral. “Maybe if she had, her hatred of the saurians wouldn’t have grown so fierce and vengeful.”

“Over the years she’s talked a great deal about returning to the mainland and rejoining the Pact,” said Icaron, “but Barat and Sol and I never agreed with her. I think the quetzal today reignited all her old anger and fear, and so she broke her vow of secrecy. It was a vow meant to keep everyone safe. Sometimes ignorance is preferable to knowledge.”

Dusk nodded. He wasn’t sure he quite understood, but he trusted his father and knew he must be right.

“You really hunted eggs?” Icaron nodded. “We both did.”