Chapter 30: The What, the When, the Where, the Why, and the How

They gazed, and dared at last to comprehend

They were the Simurgh, and the journey’s end

--Farid Ud-Din Attar, The Conference of Birds

 Though birds see many things from above, they cannot be everywhere at once, no matter how many droppings are left as evidence on cars and sidewalks. While their city looked down on Earth, the moon, in turn, looked down on them. So limited, none expected the Easter Bunny to crash-land amongst them. Not that week, at least. Nephelokokkygia is an island supported by a million, million wingbeats, kept aloft by fantasies dreamed, stories told, and art made. So it made sense residents untethered from solid ground developed personalities both airy and flighty.

Dodo Clarion futilely tried hopping over the red brick wall he insisted on being built. “I demonstrate it myself! The wall is impenetrable. That peacock argues we’re already in the sky, so it’s a given most could soar over a two-feet barrier. But really, that discriminates against us Differently Flying. No, the problem is this wall was constructed too well! I can’t get back in.”

His cronies in the Simurgh glanced down. Some sat on the wall, some hung from it. The ostrich, Strythio Modestus, hopped over, back-and-forth, nervously chewing the rim of his blue hat. No matter how often they informed him, their self-appointed leader refused to recognize he could walk several yards to the right, where the wall suddenly ended along with their funding.

“Don’t want any naysayers speaking about ‘facts’ and ‘figures.’” Dodo Clarion paused to dust off his round middle. “Ugh, this material’s terrible. Anyway, I won’t put up with negativity. All ‘facts’ say dodos are extinct, which would really hurt my feelings if it were true.”

The fact of the matter was that Grace and her griffin fell from the outer sky. Sanity intact, despite having to maneuver through their darkest selves. They passed clouds participating in one of their twice-daily light shows. Grace had no idea if it was sunset or sunrise. Goldtalon distracted himself over whether a colored cloud tasted any plainly as the regular white, which is when the dodo broke what would have been an intense fall.

Screams of “Murder, murder!” drew the attention of the entire sheriff’s department. All one of him, not counting his extra eyes. Additionally, Melek Panoptes came accompanied by the crew of the commandeered vimana. Initially, it seemed unclear why they were wearing armor, with some carrying weapons. Anansi held a dagger between his mandibles, insisting it made him look like a pirate. Diana tied a metal pan over her chest, with a china teapot already on her head. 

“Gracie!” Bennu noticed their arrival before anyone, including Dodo Clarion. “And my hatchmate! We were so worried you wouldn’t escape Ostara, we prepared to return and battle her!”

“I knew they’d be okay.” Fox seemed better rested. At least, less tired. “After all, I lent her my goggles.” When Grace tried returning them, the older girl waved her away. “You keep them. Figure I won’t have to worry about ricocheting stones anymore. After the mines, I think I’m in total control.”

Bennu still had Yi Ullr’s originally bow and arrows, but could not currently use them.

“Why are you chained up, Bennu?” asked Grace.

“He must stand trial,” Melek spoke neutrally, but his collection of weeping eyes gave his emotions away. “As, I suppose you and your griffin must, too.”

 “As they should, swear to Gary!” shouted Dodo Clarion. He had reclaimed his bicorne, but Bennu snorted two jets of fire which destroyed the spore-infected hat.

A procession of gondolas brought everyone past the egg-shaped building formerly lacking in doors, windows, entrances, or exits. It had at least one of those now. Ostara was trying to escape out if it when Melek caught her in a dozen of his sights. She had resumed her rabbit form, but rather than a giant, she had shrunk to less than her height when first met in Mooncry’s throne room. In fact, every part of her had diminished. Her beautiful golden coat washed out to plain yellow.

The Simurgh gathered at the adjoining congress house. Crowds of civilians left their occupations to gape from wherever they could without falling into the cloud rivers, back to their limited gray-to-white palette now that the sun had fully risen. Birds crammed eagerly to witness humans like the famed “Iron Will,” and the mysterious girl supposedly learned in their language. The banished Bennu, though, was viewed with suspicion. Melek’s hundred eyes glared right back, and birds struggled for a spot in the back of the crowd. The only class in Nephelokokkygia not gathered en masse were medical workers. Except the head nurse, a nightingale.

The congress house filled to capacity. Congress itself was not in session. Instead, the building had been repurposed for a trial (maybe several). No birds thought to provide a separate courthouse for Inquisitor Torquemada Strix. This was hardly out of disrespect to the judge.

Even the most foolhardy birds would not seek to cross him, including Dodo Clarion.

No, an official courthouse was never built in Nephelokokkygia because Inquisitor Strix would then be expected to go there, and he insisted nobody expect him. Justice was to appear swiftly, in the night, when the right claw did not know what the left claw was scratching. (Where the Inquisitor lived when not at work would require an investigation in itself, and the Simurgh refused to fund that inquiry.)

Grace was not raised on the fearful reputation built around the rarely-seen judge. All she saw flying in was a screech owl. Twisting his head in a full circle, his yellow eyes appraised the crowd from a tall desk at the center of the floor. A tall desk, but a tiny bird, gray with black strips and two tufts resembling eyebrows.

Inquisitor Strix coughed up a mouse skull, banging it on his desk like a gavel. “Order! Order in the court! That’s what I order you to do! Let’s hear the what, when, where, why, and how of this whole twisted situation! To maximize my precious time, I will be running eight or so cases simultaneously, both civil and criminal. Any objections?” If the bone banging had not done it, this query hushed all arguing, fussing, complaining, and even a few well-wishings previously cluttering the air in the room. 

Many present were expected to deliver testimony. First and foremost: Grace, Bennu, and Goldtalon. From the swinging hammock he set up, Anansi stated his intention to act as their lawyer. Evidentially, he was not lying to Tecciztecatl that one time. Melek had the role of prosecutor, or as he called it, “Accuser.”

A jury of congressfowl consisted (coincidentally or not) half of birds that voted to trust the three companions, and half that sided with Dodo Clarion and Mr. Aitvaras. Ramphastos Molhado the toucan, Abraham Snood the turkey, Muck S. F. Ruckus the duck, Fido Newcastle the canary, Ilyich Christian the swan, Christopher Paul the wren, Hobby Rufter the Peregrine Falcon, Kingston Eucalyptus the kookaburra, Picus Jinx the woodpecker, Fujian Tzu the crane, Beagle Brahe the finch, and Captain Casque Phobetor, the cassowary. Decisions might go either way, or be split if jurors sided with their factions instead of the evidence.

All evidence was on the companion’s side. They had more allies in the room than before. Diana, Fox, William Henry, Chang’e, and their lawyer all provided testimony backing the three’s claims of innocence and further exposed the crimes of the villains they had encountered and beaten. They chronicled a book’s worth of information redundant to mention here. If only Schrodinger and Chiaroscuro could speak, though, Grace thought. The grimalkin always tried to educate, and Chiaroscuro’s evil eye caught details most preferred to ignore.

Testimony was also given by Dodo Clarion and Ostara, the latter being handcuffed, not that she seemed to have any of the power she once abused. Melek Panoptes mercilessly probed those on the witness stand. At the same time, none in the audience could say he was unprofessional in his sternness. The dodo and rabbit only stood to incriminate themselves.

“…Yes,” said Dodo Clarion, “I was friends with Mr. Aitvaras. Is it such a crime to be popular?”

“You’d be lucky if it was,” Melek responded. “But did you invite that demon into this city, knowing full well he was exiled for life?”

The dodo scoffed. “Impossible. If he tried breaking in, my wall would keep him out.” He turned his fat head to the crowd. Looking for support, only finding an ostrich trying to bury his head in the transparent floor.

“My question was not ‘could he break in,’ but ‘did you let him in?’” Melek tried again. “Furthermore, did you not receive the gift of a hat at the time, one originating from Ostara’s palace, and consequently contaminated by Radixomniummalorum bokor?”

“Rad-domino?” Dodo Clarion asked in a mocking tone. “You’re making up words, which is real skiwampus. But even if I had, that very stylish bicorne was destroyed a long time ago.”

“It was an hour ago,” corrected Bennu. “By me, and done because I knew the Root of All Evil infested it.”

“There’s no evidence that hat exists,” asserted Dodo Clarion. “Or that I ever wore something so devilishly fashionable.”

“What about all the pictures you had me take of you wearing it?” Strythio Modestus asked upon being dragged to the witness stand, along with a large set of photographs. “And the greeting cards from the Flightless Bird Party?”

“Differently flying!” Dodo Clarion screeched. “See the sign I’m holding in that group shot? I’m right there front and center, because the party wouldn’t exist without me!”

“It will exist after.” At least, that was what Captain Phobetor appeared to have said from the jury box. Those assembled might have only heard the comment in their dreams that night.

“And what are you wearing on your head in this group photo?” asked Melek.

“The best hat in the world!” proclaimed Dodo Clarion. “In fact, the best hat to the moon and back…er.”

“I’ll testify that bicorne came from my palace,” said Ostara. “But only for full immunity.”

“Now, Miss Easter, what would you need immunity for if you are innocent?” asked Melek.

“We’ve all done things we’re not proud of in life,” Ostara answered curtly. “If you live long enough, you collect a few faux pas.” She steepled her fingers. Her handcuffs clinked together.  

“And are you proud of the part you played separating hundreds of eggs from their families for over a thousand years?” interrogated Melek.  

“A part?” Ostara turned incredulous. “I’ll have you know the whole operation would never have happened without me! Who bankrolled those egg snatchers, and suffered the pain in her pocketbook? I shouldn’t be on trial like those three.” It was obvious whom she meant. “I’m a poor, helpless victim.” The rabbit’s eyes went wide. She tried meeting the gaze of anyone except the peacock prosecutor. Some point after being forced to encounter her fears and regrets, she lost that spring look which convinced others to implicitly adore her, to willingly take any candy she might offer, not that she ever did.

It was time for a nightingale named Fauna Philomena to testify. Dodo Clarion insisted she was irrelevant to the criminal investigation. But Anansi crawled to the judge, convincing him the nurse could illustrate the context of why it proved necessary for Bennu, Grace, and Goldtalon to return to Nephelokokkygia. Nurse Philomena confirmed the formula on the gold scroll had a hundred-percent efficacy in curing those infected by spores. She also readily credited those who provided the knowledge and raw materials to mass-produce the remedy.

“Has nobody heard of good Samaritans?” asked Anansi. “Helping those in need, even if it involves crossing some arbitrary divide?”

It was meant rhetorically, but several in the crowd claimed they had not. Ramphastos Molhado, the toucan, insisted the jury should start receiving bribes. “Just to get our beaks wet.” From the crowd, Eco Repeticion, the Yellow-and-Blue Macaw, duly duplicated all responses.

The short and long of it was Dodo Clarion was found guilty of treason, and conspiring with known enemies of the city. Accidentally spreading a plague was not considered a crime, but now that everyone knew the deaths were his fault, they would never let him forget it. 

For a staggering breadth of crimes only possible for someone with immortality, Ostara received a life sentence in the Nephelokokkygia prison. Melek Panoptes would be her jailer, and strongly implied the chance of parole looked slim.

“But I’m a goddess!” the creature once known as the Easter Bunny protested. “A life sentence for me would last millions of years longer than justified for only thousands of years’ worth of crimes.”

“Guess there are some benefits to being ‘mere mortals.’” Fox laughed.

“Though I wouldn’t know personally,” said Bennu. “I can more than appreciate your sentiment.”

Solomon Tereus, the hoopoe, said “You know, I do believe there’s a lesson in all this…” before Inquisitor Strix told him to shut up.

 Grace failed to understand why other birds disliked the owl.

“I respect the house speaker, of course,” Dodo Clarion tried oozing charm, succeeding in half that, “But you talk out of turn, two legs, no wings!” He was presently having all his feathers plucked, just to make sure they did not carry spores like his hat had.

“If you don’t mind, congressfowl Dodo,” Inquisitor Strix said at a volume far deeper than felt appropriate given his minute body, “I believe I’m the judge here. I’ll let the girl’s comment stand.”

Mr. Aitvaras failed to be present when called. Though his whereabouts were uncertain, rumors already circulated about a wooden cabin supported by chicken legs. City birds were too frightened to journey there, even to beg after their lost mail. The Inquisitor tried the blazing-eyed demon in absence anyway, finding him guilty to the surprise of no one. The intended treaty with Ostara went unmentioned.

Then came the sentencing of Bennu, Grace, and Goldtalon, who readily admitted they broke the law returning from exile. “We’d do it again,” stated Grace.

“Like I’ll continue donating feathers,” added Bennu.

“And eggshell,” Goldtalon chipped in.

In light of the fact they returned solely to cure the plague that would otherwise have destroyed the city, Captain Casque Phobetor declared a verdict of “Not guilty.” Even those daydreaming in the throng woke up.

“I see pebble fall from sky,” slurred the nameless Archaeopteryx. “Make boom! Fungus almost as bad.”

Inquisitor Strix ordered that the trio be uncuffed. Bennu was to be welcomed home, a full holiday declared, with a parade and a feast. Not necessarily in any order. As his mentor would be busy at the jailhouse, the phoenix was also placed in charge of the other muses. 

“First, someone needs to tell Schrodinger’s cousin, Maneki-san, about his pass…that he die…the tabby’s gone.” Bennu paused. “But then, yes, back to a-musing.”

“Good idea,” Anansi drawled from inside his hammock. “Miss Hemlock, are you still invested in me acting as your literary muse, so you might achieve a poetaster’s notoriety?”

It almost seemed like Diana would cry again. She only smiled, slightly less disturbing than before she started practicing. Mariner Goon the albatross, who sat nearby, offered her salt water in celebration.

Fox wound up squished between Septima Hamelin the magpie, Torgo Ghoulish the vulture, and Pandora Crepuscular the nightjar, the three staunchest allies to Bennu, Grace, and Goldtalon in the Simurgh. When congressfowl flew across the room to provide accolades, Fox remained sitting. Grace noticed the older girl fiddled with a business card with the number “eight” written on it.

The trial exposed the location of Ostara’s stolen hoard, eggs included. The Simurgh entered an emergency session, declaring unanimously (minus Dodo Clarion, who was fired) Nephelokokkygia would begin cataloguing those eggs and, wherever possible, return them to their proper nests.

The ibis scribe, Thoth Trismegistus, offered to do the accounting, as long as afterwards he was given a very long vacation from working for congress. In the crowd of citizens, a pelican named Henet Alcatraz nudged aside a stork to volunteer in helping parents reclaim their young.

To better enable transportation to the moon and back, Chang’e offered the dented, yet functional vimana. “I myself intend to see how Earth’s changed,” she said. “Perhaps learn what exactly befell my husband. For that, this girl shall need something to weigh her buoyant body down—any inventor I can commission?” She glanced at William Henry, who shrugged.

Grace had little time for celebrations in the frantic processes of being planned, cancelled, and reorganized. Ostara lied to everyone (including herself), but time really did pass differently depending on one’s place in the Astral. However long it had been on Earth, the girl decided it was better knowing the truth about her family, even if she got the worst news possible.

Bennu offered to care for Goldtalon, who would be feted as a hero by his fellow magical birds, receiving all manner of delectable, exotic foodstuffs. The griffin insisted on remaining with his “mommy.”

Outside the wall-less gates, William Henry sat on the edge of the vimana. While grimy and greasy, he wore the shirt and trousers underneath the metal suit he had to wear in Mooncry’s forge. He palmed the gold scroll. “My…rather, our friend, ally, associate Schrodinger isn’t here to return it. So I will. Even with, including, considering the fine.” He grimaced. “There are worse problems, issues, difficulties in the world. I’m off to the Croatoan Archives, but if you care to, Ms. Grey, I can fly, bring, pilot you home, as well.”

“No thank you, Mr. Henry,” Grace answered in a way somehow both polite and impatient. “We want to fly down ourselves. Without any detours.”

“Except snack stops,” threw in Goldtalon.

“I understand, comprehend, appreciate.” William Henry put the scroll in his pocket and moved to the driver’s seat. “Any number, sum, amount of things can happen on the way to or from a library…” He turned to see they already took off.

NEXT WEEK: THE FINAL CHAPTER: "Briar Triumphant."