“Ski’i,” Leal cawed to the clan council as he entered the cane forest clearing. Curls of sparks and flame twisted high into the clear night sky above the council fire. Seven warriors returned, “Ski’i,” and dipped their beaks. Firelight flickered off their ridged brows and beaks and set shadows dancing against the forest gloom.
The clan elder swept a wing to the spot beside him. Leal fluttered and folded his wings then rocked down upon the bare ground. It was the place of honor he had earned for driving the Jab-Ron clan from their land.
Leal leaned toward the fire to relieve the night chill. The scent of burning cane and spicy Chen Doe root stirred his nostrils. The incense bound all warriors to speak only the truth in council.
No females came to the fire this night for it was brooding season, and many warriors bore the scars and torn feathers from having been driven from their nests. One of the clan elder’s wings hung limp. The warrior beyond him reflected shining bald spots in the firelight. Leal displayed the short feathers and stubble on his right wing proudly, for his mate was strong and fierce. Ree had also given him a deep gash with her beak that left a blood crescent dried on his breast.
“Ski’i,” called another joining the circle.
“Ski’i,” returned Leal and the others, dipping their beaks. The newcomer Tarii extended his neck and pulled upright before sitting. A young buck porod squirmed in his beak, kicking and scratching with its six, sharp-clawed legs. Tarii tossed and caught the porod by its neck then gave a quick shake. He set the fresh kill before the clan elder then backed to the opposite side of the circle.
Impressive show, Leal thought. Porod are savage fighters, and this was a strong, young buck. Too bad the fledged females weren’t here to see the display: Tarii might have had his pick.
Unlike the mated warriors, Tarii’s feathers were full, combed, and unbloodied. Leal knew that next season they would not be. Last year Tarii had challenged him for the right to mate with Ree. It had been no contest, and there was no bad blood between them. Adolescent warriors were expected to strut and challenge, and Ree was as beautiful and intelligent as she was formidable.
“Brooding season goes well?” The elder counted only bobbing beaks. “Game plentiful … water flows … mates and young ones?” More bobs. “Good, then to our main concern. There has been another incursion in our realm.”
Tarii and two others pointed and bobbed three times, indicating three valleys to the southwest.
“Your sector again, Leal. Have the Jab-Ron returned?”
“Not Jab-Ron, of that I am certain. I saw their disk fall from the stars and settle on the cascade overlook as gentle as a twirling Chen Doe blossom. I also watched them set up camp.” All beaks turned toward Leal.
“How many?” the elder asked.
“Four, and they are all quite different from one another—each specialized for a different task. Some have interchangeable claws, limbs, and mouthparts. But none resembles the Jab-Ron or any of our species.” Leal said. A cane log cracked and collapsed, sending a spray of sparks arcing up from the fire. The scream of a lallow pierced the night air then ended abruptly, no doubt a night-stalking aglak had caught its dinner.
“One of the intruders stands on two legs as we do and is nearly our size. It has neither wings nor beak, and its body is made of metal. Two other creatures are also made of metal but have boxy bodies. One has six articulated legs like the web-spinning hindergoss, and spends its time roaming our hills. The other has rolling feet and claws that dig in the dirt. The only intruder of flesh is less than half our size. It has four legs and is covered with downy, tan fur like an adult porod. This one spotted me and alerted the others. It bared its fangs but did not pursue when I backed away.
“Weapons?” asked the elder.
“Only one. The roaming, hindergoss creature carries a weapon that shoots burning light. Other than that, they and their camp appear defenseless.”
“Have any porod packs attacked them?” asked the elder.
“No, but they’ve marked the camp with dung piles and scented a path for a night attack. Tracks indicate that several packs are working together. I believe they’ve held back for fear of the intruder’s sound shield.”
“Sound shield?” The elder rocked and stretched its long neck and head toward Leal. “A defensive weapon? Have you seen it in operation?”
“If it is a weapon, it causes no harm to us,” Leal said. “I find myself curiously drawn to it, and that may be its true purpose—an attempt to communicate. The sound shield has structure, and I’m certain it carries coded information. I am able to replicate some of the sounds and believe I may soon be able to understand them.”
“Very interesting. Continue your investigation, Leal, and report back at the next council.”
Conclusion next week.