The Bluebirds Were Her Friends 4/5
“From its high perch, the Tash Snake laid eyes on a new opportunity. A bear had emerged from the trees, lumbering toward the garden where Zareen hummed to herself, gathering vegetables. With her head bowed and her mind filled with hopeful daydreams, she was oblivious to the massive predator’s approach. The snake watched with cold anticipation…”
CHAPTER NINE
From its high perch, the Tash Snake laid eyes on a new opportunity. A bear had emerged from the trees, lumbering toward the garden where Zareen hummed to herself, gathering vegetables. With her head bowed and her mind filled with hopeful daydreams, she was oblivious to the massive predator’s approach. The snake watched with cold anticipation.
Tash waited for the proper moment to strike. It arrived just as the bluebirds—stirred by the bear’s presence—prepared to dive from their nest to warn the human. Before they could take flight, the Tash’s shadow stretched long and dark across their nest, petrifying them.
The bear was closing in on Zareen, but the bluebirds were trapped. They could not leave their newborns with death looming above. Bonny and Tawny erupted into a frenzy, a chaotic chorus of squeaks, tweets, and squawks to catch Zareen’s attention. Even the hatchlings joined in, their lollipop heads wobbling as they screamed into the air.
The warning reached Zareen just in time. As she scrambled to evade the bear’s reach, the Tash Snake dropped from the overhanging branches, letting gravity pull its heavy body toward their nest. Mr. Bluebird was ready. He leapt to the edge, stomping his tiny yellow feet and puffing his chest. He spread his wings wide, prepared to drive the snake back or force it to choke on his very body.
The bluebird sidestepped, keeping himself between his family and the snake. His sheer bravado made the Tash hesitate, and with that moment of indecision, it lost its chance for vengeance.
In the garden, the one-eyed bear roared, smashing Zareen’s overturned wagon into splinters. Zareen rolled to her feet and bolted for the jungle just as a voice shouted from the trees.
“Get down!”
Zareen ducked. A rock the size of a hen’s egg whistled through the space where her head had been a second before. It struck the bear squarely on the snout, stunning the beast. Shay sprinted from the brush, twirling a leather sling and launching stone after stone. The first one hit the bear; the second one did, too. The third projectile soared past and struck the Tash Snake in the middle of its back, shattering its spine.
The Tash hissed and tried to spring away but its body failed. Slithering painfully to the far side of the roof, the snake tumbled to the ground and vanished into the undergrowth, vowing revenge. It left behind a trail of warm blood that was greedily absorbed by the thirsty Triarion soil.
Shay and Zareen turned their full attention to the bear, grappling and dodging it. In the commotion, there was a sudden explosion of green light. When it faded, the creature lay dead, gray wisps of smoke rising from its fallen body. The bluebirds did not understand the force behind the flash, but they were relieved to see their friends emerge from the fray.
Shay carried Zareen toward the cottage, but she asked him to stop as they passed the nest. She thanked her feathered friends for their warning, explaining to Shay that they had saved her life. The bluebirds puffed their feathers with well-earned pride. Zareen still in his arms, Shay knelt in front of the birds and bowed his head to them.
“My dear friends,” he said. “I owe you so very much.”
Tawny and Bonny saw Shay once more in the days that followed, but after that he vanished and they never saw him again.
CHAPTER TEN
The bluebirds did, however, meet Shay’s family—specifically a traveler named Zak who reached a skeletal hand into their nest and sprinkled twenty-five pieces of glittering golden birdseed before them. Zak explained that the seeds were enchanted; eating them would sharpen their minds and grant them unnaturrally long lives. Furthermore, the gift was hereditary; their future children, and those children’s children, would inherit the change.
Zak noticed the birds’ hesitation. “Shayfar told me to give you this. I suppose he would have preferred you to call him Shay, right? The gift is from him. He said he owed you.”
Zak scoffed, but the Bluebirds were encouraged. Bonny was not sure how much smarter she needed to be, but she was intrigued by the prospect of a longer life with her husband by her side. Tawny felt the same way. Noticing that he had thirteen seeds to her twelve, he discreetly nudged one golden grain from his pile to Bonny’s when she was not looking.
As the birds ate, they slipped into a mind-expanding daze. Their heartbeats slowed and their frantic, instinctive reactions dimmed. Thoughts that had once existed only as vague shapes crystallized into clear, understandable words. The world around them followed suit; they could suddenly comprehend the hectic babble of ants marching beside them, the low hum of the trees, and the wind’s steady whisper. The bluebirds could even understand Zareen and the two people she was talking to.
When the daze lifted, Zak and the other visitors were gone. Their children were hungry, but before they could attend to them, Zareen ran by their nest. She stood in the garden, searching for the strangers who had so abruptly vanished.
Tawny turned to his wife, “I suspect the travelers altered our collective perception with a spell, before departing through a combination of superhuman physical ability and arcane means.”
Bonny chirped in agreement. “I concur with your astute observation, dear.” She felt a surge of pride; her husband was truly brilliant.
Zareen returned to the nest and held up a dark green sewing needle for the birds to see. “What do you make of this?” she asked, mostly to herself.
Bonny tilted her head, her gaze now catching details hidden to the human’s less refined ocular apparatus. “It’s an enchanted artifact,” she explained through a series of rhythmic chirps. “The design integrates structural symbolism to fortify the enchantment with metaphorical reinforcement. If I had to speculate, it is intended to ‘stitch together that which has been torn apart.’”
Zareen sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. “Yeah. I have no idea, either.”
The bluebirds glanced at each other, realizing the limit of Zak’s gift: it had granted them the ability to understand the world, but it had not given the world the ability to understand them. The couple huddled close around their children. Their world had grown infinitely larger, yet they remained the same small creatures within it.
The Bluebirds Were Her Friends 3/5
“Mrs. Bluebird stepped forward, leaving Mr. Bluebird to mind their eggs, and thanked Shay for saving her husband. She told him she was a small bird of little wealth, but that she had a secret stash of seeds. If he was willing to wait, she would bring them as a reward. Bonny was not sure exactly what people ate, but Shay was welcome to the seeds if he wanted them…”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Zareen was their neighbor’s name, as Mr. Bluebird had learned. She was not a giant, either. She was a person. A woman-person.
Mr. Bluebird paused during his explanation. He wanted to make sure he was being accurate, so he hopped two steps over to confer with Shay, who answered the small bird’s questions and offered a bit of encouragement.
“You’re doing great,” Shay said, smiling. “Keep going.”
Tawny fluttered back to Mrs. Bluebird and continued to explain what Shay had told him. He had said that he and Zareen were not giants. They were people. Even though his skin looked different, Shay was a person, too, just like Zareen was. He was a different kind of person, though. He was a man-person, as far as Tawny understood.
Tawny informed Bonny that a group of persons was called “people” and that people were incredible creatures. They did not lay eggs, but they did have children. They lived in nests, too, only they called them houses. That meant the Bluebirds actually lived on top of Zareen’s house, not a cave.
Bonny accepted the news somberly. She had heard the word “people” before but thought it was an attempt at crude humor. To think that such beings had existed all along, right beneath her beak. She shivered. It was hard to believe what Tawny said, but when she thought about it, Bonny could see the truth of what he was saying. She had noticed the strange houses appearing more often in the jungle, smelled the smoke from their chimneys. It seemed improbable that these people would come so far out into the jungle, but the person Shay—who had shared this information with Tawny—seemed honest enough. On top of that, he had saved her husband from the murderous Tash Snake. Even if she needed time to accept the idea of people invading her homeland, Bonny needed far less to accept Shay as a friend.
Mrs. Bluebird stepped forward, leaving Mr. Bluebird to mind their eggs, and thanked Shay for saving her husband. She told him she was a small bird of little wealth, but that she had a secret stash of seeds. If he was willing to wait, she would bring them as a reward. Bonny was not sure exactly what people ate, but Shay was welcome to the seeds if he wanted them.
“Your friendship is gift enough, my lady.”
Bonny, confused, cocked her head at the word “lady,” but she understood the man’s meaning well enough.
“There is one thing you can do for me, though.” Shay looked about conspiratorially. The bluebirds copied the movement, though they did not know what they were supposed to be on the lookout for. “Would you happen to know where I can get cleaned up?”
The pair chirped that they did. They had heard Zareen splashing in her house—splashing and singing. As bluebirds, they were familiar with the sounds of a bath. He could use hers! They were still overwhelmed by the day’s events; it was perhaps forgivable that they should forget guests were meant to be invited. Shay thanked them for their help and slipped around the back of Zareen’s cottage to avoid being seen. He checked the door there and finding it locked, whispered a brief spell to let himself into Zareen’s home.
There was a washroom in the hallway, and inside sat a metal tub still full from an earlier bath. Shay thanked his luck and placed his hands on the rim. Power coursed through him, but he kept a lid on it; too much and he would give himself away. He let his magic hum until the water began to steam, then cut it off. It stung him to step away from the flow so abruptly, but he preferred to stay hidden. He did not want his family to catch him.
Shay stripped down and sank into the warm water. When he was finished with his bath, he changed back into his travel clothes, which had used the time off his body to patch and purify themselves. With both his skin and attire freshened, Shay stepped into the hallway, his mind turning toward the kitchen. He was hungry, though not yet famished.
Outside the cottage, Bonny and Tawny watched in dismay as Zareen stumbled out of the jungle. She fell face first into her own backyard, bleeding from three large wounds on her back. The Bluebirds dropped their snacks and fluttered above her, but she could not understand their cries like Shay had. Realizing their helplessness, the birds swooped toward the house, shouting for the stranger to come out. Shay heard them and, chuckling, stepped into the backyard to see what the fuss was about.
“Typical bluebirds,” he said to himself. “Save them once and suddenly you are their—”
He stopped short. Zareen was on the ground, dragging herself toward the cottage. Her hands were caked in a dark mud where the backyard dirt had met her blood-soaked skin. She managed to pull herself as far as the well—where the Tash Snake still lurked in the shadows—before she finally collapsed. Shay rushed to her, scooping her into his arms just as the snake hissed from atop the stones.
Shay glared at the creature, a hard, cold look that sent it slithering into the dark, then he carried Zareen back toward the door. Just before they crossed the threshold, she reached up, brushing the back of her hand against his cheek. She smiled at him, weakly.
“Is this another dream?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Under Shay’s care, Zareen healed quickly and soon the bluebirds saw them out in the garden less and less. They were neither worried nor offended, however. They understood what was unfolding between these people. They were birds, after all, and knew what love looked like. It was for the best, anyway, because they had their own wonders to attend to. Their eggs were ready to hatch! The life inside each egg had grown restless, surprising the parents nestled on top of them. It was the egg beneath Mrs. Bluebird that cracked first, followed a minute later by the one under Mr. Bluebird.
The babies pecked their way through their eggshells and, with their parents’ help, entered a strange world of blaring sounds and dizzying colors. The newborns squeaked, heavy heads wobbling on spindly necks, and stretched open their brightly colored mouths to demand food.
Drawn by the hatchlings’ frantic squawks, the Tash Snake coiled into the branches overlooking the nest. As it watched the new parents tend to their chicks, it licked the air, tasting the scent of opportunity. Two babies were harder to shield than one, and soon, one of the bluebirds would have to leave the nest to find food. When that happened, the Tash Snake would strike.
The snake waited, calculating which bird it would kill first. Would it take whichever bird wandered off alone and then double back to pick off the rest? The large, green-skinned man had left the house earlier that morning. He was strong—as the lingering ache from his crushing grip could attest—but the Tash Snake was certain that even he could not be in two places at once.
The Tash Snake slipped deeper into the shadows as it studied its meal. The smaller appetizers were coated in a raw, earthy fragrance, and the larger entrees were hard at work grooming them. The snake watched as, once the ordeals of hatching and cleaning were finished, the entire family fell into an exhausted sleep, hatchlings huddled together beneath their parents’ wings.
From its high vantage point in the tree, the snake scanned its surroundings. Seeing no one, it began its descent, uncoiling and recoiling as it slid from branch to branch. It was just about to drop onto the cottage’s roof when the front door swung open. Fearing discovery, the snake froze and pulled itself back into the safety of the shade.
Zareen stepped from her cottage and moved quietly past the bluebirds’ nest. Seeing the new family asleep, she took care not to disturb them. She retrieved a basket from beside the cottage’s wall and headed out into her garden, never noticing the Tash Snake’s green and brown coils curled around the branches directly above her.
The Bluebirds Were Her Friends 2/5
“Mrs. Bluebird told him that, yes, it was time for her to lay her two eggs. Tawny was astonished. Two eggs? He had thought there would be one. Two eggs were… well, it was twice as special, that was what it was. Bonny had doubled their chance of growing a family. Tawny collected himself and stood beside his brilliant wife. Whatever she needed from him, he told her, she would have. He meant it. He would even fight the giant if it came to that. Mrs. Bluebird glanced about nervously, hoping it did not…”
CHAPTER FOUR
Mrs. Bluebird woke her husband by gently nudging him. It was dark, but when Mr. Bluebird looked into his wife’s loving, round face, he realized that the long-awaited moment had now come. He double-checked with Bonny, just in case.
Mrs. Bluebird told him that, yes, it was time for her to lay her two eggs. Tawny was astonished. Two eggs? He had thought there would be one. Two eggs were… well, it was twice as special, that was what it was. Bonny had doubled their chance of growing a family. Tawny collected himself and stood beside his brilliant wife. Whatever she needed from him, he told her, she would have. He meant it. He would even fight the giant if it came to that. Mrs. Bluebird glanced about nervously, hoping it did not.
The time to lay her eggs arrived, and Bonny did her best. In the end, it all went well. Before the sun was up, an exhausted Mrs. Bluebird sat on two new eggs with snowy white shells and brownish-yellow spots. Mr. Bluebird had witnessed the egg-laying process up close and now sat silently in the nest, eyes wide with surprise and understanding.
He was so stunned that he did not hear the large snake slithering around on the ground beneath them.
CHAPTER FIVE
The snake was a type of long, venomous constrictor known to inhabit the massive jungle that encircled the planet Triarion. They were known as Tash Snakes, named after the way they hissed when they struck. Despite their well-camouflaged green and brown bodies, Tash Snakes had an obvious marking that made them almost impossible to miss. Their heads all bore a distinct “X” made of reflective yellow scales. Scholars who studied such things attributed the mark to evolution, concluding from its color and location that the snake had evolved a clever way to absorb and retain the sun’s heat. There was also an ancient Triarion myth that said the gods who gave the Tash its strength and venom had also clearly marked its weak spot to punish it for betraying them.
The Tash Snake flicked its forked tongue, tasting freshly laid eggs in the air. Silently, the snake slithered toward the pheromonal plume billowing from the bluebirds’ nest. The scent hung in the air like a cloud. The snake climbed a nearby tree, stretched out its body, and dropped onto the roof of the human’s home. The snake checked the air for any sign of the human’s body heat and detected nothing. The human was not around; there would be no better time to strike. The snake raced along the mossy slate shingles, bobbing its raised head. It caught sight of a bluebird alone in its nest; it looked exhausted and scared. This, the snake thought, must be the new mother. Good.
The Tash Snake reared up and glowered down at the solitary bluebird. It was about to strike but stopped when it felt something, tug, ever so lightly, on its tail. It looked back at its other end and saw another bluebird. The little animal was using its beak to pull on the snake’s tail with all its strength. This one is the father. He was small, and weak. The snake decided to deal with him later. It returned its attention to the mother, but she was gone. The Tash Snake believed that she was gone, anyway.
She was not.
When Tawny grabbed the snake by its tail, the creature looked back. That was when Bonny fluttered away, up into the air above the Tash Snake. She dove at it, striking the snake in its beady black eye. She attacked with her beak as she held on with her small, sharp claws. The snake violently shook its head as it fought to dislodge Bonny. While it was distracted, Tawny attacked the snake’s other eye. He clung to its face with a fierce tenacity that mirrored his wife’s.
The snake hissed loudly and threw itself off the roof to get away. The birds let go of its face as it fell. The Tash Snake’s body was all muscle surrounding a long tube, so the short drop did nothing to harm it.
The bluebirds flew back to their eggs. They checked to make sure they were undamaged. They were but they were also cooling quickly, and that posed a danger to the chicks inside. Bonny and Tawny each sat on an egg to warm them up again.
The Tash Snake slithered away into the trees so it could heal and think. It had never had to fight for a meal before; certainly, it had never been denied its prey. The bluebirds had surprised the snake with their aggression, and it panicked. Now that the panic had passed, the snake was left with a new emotion: rage. It was furious that it had been scared and hurt by the birds. On top of that, it was still hungry. The snake decided to rest. When its eyes stopped hurting, it would come back and devour those troublesome bluebirds. Eating their eggs would be a delectable bonus.
With its inflamed eyes burning, the snake wound its way around to a well that was behind the human’s home. It climbed down into the well, sliding along protruding bricks that jutted out like steps. It came to a space where one of the bricks had been pushed out by a tree root. The Tash Snake squeezed its long body into the empty space and curled up to rest. Its eyes were already feeling better; everything would be fine again tomorrow.
CHAPTER SIX
The next day, Tawny hopped about in the grass behind the giant’s home. Bonny was at home, asleep with the new eggs. Tawny planned to pick around the grass for some seeds, bugs, and maybe, if he was lucky, a fat wriggling grub. Anything to help his wife regain her strength and stamina. Yesterday had been the most tiring day of her life and fighting the Tash was the closest she had ever come to dying. He had to find something to keep her spirits up.
Mr. Bluebird found what he was looking for in the cool shadow of the giant’s cave. It was an earthworm, a big, midnight-blue one. Tawny chased after the worm with his beak open and his pink tongue poking towards it. The worm felt the earth beneath it vibrate and moved hastily away from the source of those vibrations. It wove through the grass this way and that, an evasive maneuver designed by nature to help the blind, ground-bound creature escape from a broad spectrum of potential hunters.
Mr. Bluebird closed in on his target, while behind him the Tash Snake lifted its X-marked head above the grass.
The Tash attacked, its namesake hiss cutting through the air. The little bluebird realized its danger and tried to run, but it was too slow, too committed to its previous course. The bird looked over its shoulder in time to see the snake’s open mouth and gleaming, dagger-like fangs, wet with poison.
When Tawny saw the snake coming, he shut his eyes. He could not help himself. It was a reflex, a natural reaction to his face being threatened. Mr. Bluebird froze and waited to die, but it never happened.
“I know you must eat,” he heard a voice say. “But he is such a tiny bird.”
Tawny opened his eyes and saw a giant, but it was not the giant he knew. If anything, this giant made the other one look small by comparison. On top of that, it had skin the same color as leaves. This new giant held the Tash off ground by the back of its neck, squeezing its jaws so that they stayed open.
“I am going to let you go now.”
The leaf-colored giant carried the snake over to the well it lived in and placed the creature on the ground in front of it. The snake shot up and over the short wall that ran around the top of the well, scales dragging on stone. When it was gone, the giant returned to Mr. Bluebird. It squatted down to speak to Tawny. The bird was surprised to find that the giant was more than just fluent in bird-tongue; it actually spoke with an accent Tawny recognized from his childhood tree.
“Hello,” the giant said in flawless bluebird. “Is Zareen around?”
The Bluebirds Were Her Friends 1/5
“The giant was up early again. The Bluebirds, who were the giant’s neighbors, grumpily chirped and tweeted. They were tired of the giant’s persistent thundering. Mrs. Bluebird, Bonny, told her husband Mr. Bluebird, who was called Tawny, that she would fly down and scratch out the giant’s eyes. Mr. Bluebird, Tawny, suggested diplomacy. Bonny, the missus, huffed, but when her husband looked away, she let out a relieved tweet. She had not really wanted to get in a fight, but gosh, it was the third time this week. Tawny told her it was time he got to know their large, noisy, neighbor…”
CHAPTER ONE
The giant was up early again. The Bluebirds, who were the giant’s neighbors, grumpily chirped and tweeted. They were tired of the giant’s persistent thundering. Mrs. Bluebird, Bonny, told her husband Mr. Bluebird, who was called Tawny, that she would fly down and scratch out the giant’s eyes. Mr. Bluebird, Tawny, suggested diplomacy. Bonny, the missus, huffed, but when her husband looked away, she let out a relieved tweet. She had not really wanted to get in a fight, but gosh, it was the third time this week. Tawny told her it was time he got to know their large, noisy, neighbor.
Tawny hopped onto the edge of their nest. It took two tries, but he was unashamed.
He whistled to his wife, “Goodbye, my love.”
Mr. Bluebird tipped forward, fell from the nest, flapped his wings twice, and glided away, trailing a song. He fluttered past the giant, who ignored him. But when Tawny circled back, the giant stared straight at him. He swooped to avoid a collision and flew back to his nest. Mr. Bluebird was not proud of his panic, but he was proud he had tried. After all, the giant was huge, and he was just a little bird. He had royal blue feathers on his wings, bright yellow feathers on his chest, and a heart that beat as hard as any creature’s. But Tawny knew going home was the right decision.
Mr. Bluebird landed imperfectly in the nest, which was fine, and twittered to his wife that he had tried to face the giant but fled when it flashed its teeth and raised a hand. Tawny shivered, his feathers puffing out. He chirped and settled before closing his eyes. Discretion was the better part of courage, he told Mrs. Bluebird. After she cuddled safely against him, Bonny agreed.
CHAPTER TWO
The giant, it turned out, was friendly. It enjoyed picking vegetables from the garden in front of its cave. One day, the giant saw the Bluebirds huddled in their nest and stomped toward them. Tawny and Bonny huddled together for safety. When the giant reached for them, they closed their eyes. Nothing happened. When they opened their eyes, a fat white grub inched along the edge of their nest. Mrs. Bluebird hopped away from her husband, lunged at the bug, and swallowed it in three big gulps. Mrs. Bluebird felt voracious. Tawny swayed with quiet pride at her ferocity. The giant placed another grub in front of Tawny. He pounced on it, held it down with both feet, and tore into it with his beak. He looked at his wife, her face feathers coated in green ichor.
“What a glorious day!”
When the Bluebirds tried to show their appreciation, the giant was already gone. They heard the cave door slam and heard it thrashing inside. Neither bird wanted to imagine the horrors of that mysterious place. Three giants had once lived there, but now only the youngest and smallest remained. The Bluebirds shuddered to think of the battle that must have ensued. The little giant was surely a monster to be reckoned with. Tawny had to admit, however, that the monster had a good eye for grubs.
Later that day, the giant—the smallest of the three but grown taller since the others disappeared—left its cave and walked past the Bluebirds. Tawny and Bonny chirped out a happy good morning, and to their dismay, the giant stopped and came back to them. Bonny thought of flying off but saw that Tawny had already closed his eyes and lowered his blue-feathered crown so the giant could—Bonny gulped in horror—pet him. The giant noticed and tapped Tawny on his head two times, gently, before it bellowed something and left.
Had he lost his mind, she whistled.
If he had, he chirped, it was a good thing he had.
How so, Bonny wanted to know.
It could be useful, Tawny said, to have a giant on their side.
Bonny remembered the snake that slithered around the house, flicking its long, forked tongue—the one that claimed it had nothing to do with the disappearance of her eggs, though the Bluebirds did not believe it for a second. Maybe Tawny was right. Maybe they needed a large friend. Bonny pecked her husband on the cheek. He had been very brave.
CHAPTER THREE
The giant returned days later, carrying dead rabbits and fish. It greeted them playfully, before returning to its cave and closing the door. Most days the giant left its cave and returned home with food, but for almost a week after returning with rabbits and fish, it stayed home. The cave’s chimney emitted smoke that smelled of cooked meat, and at night the giant filled its cave with strange sounds the birds had never heard before.
Mrs. Bluebird was bothered. She wondered if their neighbor was well, and suggested Mr. Bluebird go and see. Mr. Bluebird, who for days had been reimagining his heroic moment from the previous week, jumped onto the nest’s rim. He looked toward the cave’s entrance but could not see it, because it lay around a corner in the shadow of the overhanging roof. Perfect. Now he knew where he was going. That knowledge was valuable.
He hopped back into the nest and told Mrs. Bluebird that he had scouted the path ahead. In the morning—the following morning—he would venture out of the nest to check on the giant. Perhaps it was injured. Perhaps months of solitude had caught up to it. Tawny knew that loneliness could weigh heavily on anyone’s mind. He had a cousin, a good bird but a little strange, who was bullied for being “different.” One day the cousin lost control and started pecking anyone who came close. Luckily, nobody had been badly injured, but from that day forward everyone called his cousin cuckoo.
Tawny shuddered and pulled his head down into his neck feathers. He hoped the giant would feel better by morning.