The Last Summoning---Andrew and the Quest of Orion's Belt (Book Four) (21 page)

Though it was dusk, the town was dark. No
lights shone. No burning candles gleamed.

“Huh?” Freddie mused. “If that is the town of
Flicker, perhaps it was pun. Because I see nothing flickering.”

They slowly took their horses through the
town, stunned by what they saw. The sandy streets were forsaken and
utterly deserted. A feeling of emptiness crept over them as they
stared at the vast city lined with vacant houses. It looked like it
had once been a great, bustling fishing city, full of thrift and
industry. There were great houses, tall towers, and vast castles,
built all the way to the edge of the sea. Boats, docks, and great
properties with great houses dotted the countryside, looking regal,
but empty and unlived in. The streets were covered in masses of
white, brown, black and gray feathers. The carnage of feathers
filled the streets like drifts of snow. There were so many
feathers, Andrew surmised that someone had ripped open every pillow
and mattress in the village and dumped them into the streets. On
each side, were tall houses that looked like they were made for men
who were at least eight to nine feet tall---but all vacant. The
streets reeked of silent bygone days filled with plenty and
prosperity that had vanished in a night.

“Where have all the people gone?” Andrew
wondered. “I had hoped this was the place I could release the
locked up words. But all I find is emptiness.” He paused to gaze at
a house whose door creaked back and forth in the breeze.

“Stay here, all of you,” Andrew commanded. He
got off his horse, and slowly drew his sword. He paused before the
house with the swinging door. Something on the door’s threshold
glimmered and caught his eye. He bent down and picked up a long,
blue feather that had lodged itself in the mud. He wiped the mud
off, and held it up to the darkening sky. It glittered faintly like
strands of silver had once flowed through its quill.

He glanced up, feeling eyes on him. The door
creaked loudly. Somewhere within, he thought he saw a faint,
flickering light.

“Hello?” He peered carefully through the
door. Inside was dark, uninviting.

“Andrew,” Ivory cautioned. “Be careful.”

He cast her a faint smile, then stepped
through the door, cautiously glancing all around him. The
flickering light had gone out. On the floor were masses of white
feathers, like someone had ripped open a huge feather mattress.
Everywhere broken furniture was strewn. It looked like a terrible
struggle had taken place here.

A board creaked, and a distant rustle
sounded. He quickly looked up, seeing a faint, flickering light in
the corner of the room.

“Hello?”

There was no answer, only the eerie sound of
fluttering wings, the flickering of light, and a loud thwack, as
the door closed behind him.

Andrew jumped, a chill of fear running up his
spine. “Who’s there?” His hand instinctively went to his sword. He
took a step towards the darkest corner of the room where a
flickering light gleamed uncertainly in the dark room as if it also
was afraid. He stared at the uncertain light, and took a step
towards it, suddenly realizing what the light was. Two orb-like
glowing, flickering eyes stared back at him, flickering on and off
as the creature blinked at him.

Andrew took another step towards the creature
with the flickering eyes.

“St-aaa--y b-aaa-ck,” the creature warned, in
a voice that sounded more like a seagull’s cry than anything.

Andrew stood perfectly still. “Okay. I’m
staying back.”

“G-oooo-d,” the bird-like voice howled.
“D—ooo—n’t c-ome, c---ooo---m a---ny c-c---loser! Y---ooo---u
h---a---ve st---olen some---thing fr---om m---e! A---nd I
w---aaaa---nt it b-aaaaaack.”

“Stole? What have I stolen?” Andrew tried to
think what he had taken, to deserve such an accusation.

“Yes, y---ooooou h---aaaaave!” the voice
cooed like an angry pigeon, “ST---OOOOLEN!”

The creature stepped into the light of
Andrew’s sword, holding out its hand. Andrew stared at the
creature, his eyes widening. It’s features were bird-like and
feathery, humanish, yet animal. Its body was huge, and covered in
brown and white feathers, with long, blackish-blue, wispy feathers
all along its arms and hands, and framing its neck. It had the face
and legs and feet of a human, yet its toes were like that of a bird
covered in feathers. Its eyes were yellow, and hawk-like,
flickering like a candle with each movement of its head. Its
actions were abrupt, like a fluttering bird. He had long, black,
feathery hair. His yellow beak was pointed and sharp, but lip-like
and flexible. He wore a black and brown feather necklace around his
neck. A dark look, full of fear and anger was on his face. “My
feather,” it said, speaking slowly so Andrew would be sure to
understand. He extended its hand wing. “Give it baaaack.”

Andrew held up the blue feather he had picked
up. “This is yours? Sorry. I didn’t realize…” Andrew carefully
placed the blue feather into the bird’s palm and stepped back.

“Y---ooou didn’t re---alize?” the birdman
sneered, sticking the loose blue feather underneath his winged arm.
“I supp---ose y---ou’ve c---ome here to finish what y---ou
st---aarted. But we w---on’t c-ome. I’ll kill you before y---ou
clip my w---ings, like your kind did to the rest of my
br---others.” The Birdman’s face was filled with anger. He raised
up a curved blade, and pointed it at Andrew.

Andrew took a step back, his hand going to
his sword. “Clip your wings? Why would I do that?”

“As if you didn’t know?” He slowed his voice
to a slow sneer, so that he didn’t drawl out his words.

“No. I don’t know.”

The Birdman shook his head, his feathers
rustling together like paper. He breathed in slowly, so he could
speak more clearly. “I should kill you. You deserve it! Your kind
are good for nothing. You come in the name of peace, in the name of
the Fallen, of Morack, of Vargas, offering my people bread,
shelter, supplies, then you take my people, kill them, ravaged
their children, and clip their wings. And for what? Arrows.
Feathers for your arrows. To keep on enabling your kind to k---ill,
and kill.”

Andrew held up his hands. “Please, I think
you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’m not one of them. I dislike
Morack, and The Fallen just as much as you.”

The birdman took at step towards Andrew, his
bent blade still pointed at Andrew. His movements were abrupt, and
birdlike. He looked at Andrew with yellow, flickering eyes, then
towards the door. Freddie was banging on it, trying to get it open
with little result. “Andrew!” Freddie called. “Are you
alright?”

“Yes,” Andrew called back. “Just wait
outside!”

The Birdman nodded at the door. “What about
the others that came with you? How can they be trusted?”

“They are like me,” Andrew insisted. “We want
to fight those who did this to your people. We want liberty to be
given back to the people, like it was before.”

“Liberty?” The birdman mocked. His screeching
voice had calmed to a gentle purr. “Ah, there is no such thing
anymore. Freedom has come and gone, and is no more. And it will
never be again.”

Andrew’s face filled with anger, and
determination. “Freedom will be again, if we make it so, if we
believe in it. If we fight for it!”

The Birdman’s features softened. His voice
filled with sorrow. “The time for fighting is over, boy. It is too
late, especially for my city. The dead cannot be brought to life
again. Their freedom is in their graves.”

Andrew’s voice filled with conviction. “But
don’t you see? We can still fight for those living. Or at least,
die trying.”

“You believe that, don’t you?” The Birdman
put away his blade, and folded his winged arms. His face filled
with sadness. “Ah. I used to have such conviction. But now. He
motioned to the room littered with feathers. “Now, all I feel is
emptiness. There is no power strong enough to fight the forces that
you will come against.”

Andrew nodded. “Perhaps. But darkness cannot
exist where there is still light. So we will be that light, even if
it is just a small one.”

The Birdman smiled for the first time, his
face, though mostly covered in feathers, seemed very amiable and
kind, when he wasn’t angry. “Your words give me hope, lad. They
make something long forgotten stir deep within my soul. For a
moment, listening to you, I actually felt lighter. Happier. I have
been grounded for some time, for my heavy thoughts have kept me
from flying. But now, I do feel such lightness, perhaps I will fly
again. What is your name? I feel as if I knew you once.”

Andrew held out his hand. “The name’s
Andrew.”

“And I,” the Birdman said, grabbing Andrew’s
hand in with his feathery palms, and shaking it, “I am “Flicker,
the 700th, and I am the last flicker in the city of Flicker.”

“The last flicker?” Andrew asked.

“Yes, that is what my kind are called.
Flickers. We fly night and day. Our eyes guide us, flickering in
the darkness.”

“The last of your kind?” Andrew mourned.

“Yes. All that were not clipped and taken
were killed. The others who did not die, flew away.”

“Then you are not exactly the last of your
kind, then.”

“Oh, but I am. Those who flew away are gone
forever. Changed, evil, and selfish. They are no longer flickers.
For where they are going, no light can penetrate.”

“Where did they go?”

Flicker stepped to the cottage door, opened
it, nearly knocking down Freddie, who had his ear to the door.

“Whooo’s this?” Flicker screeched, grabbing
Freddie and holding him by his collar. “An eavesdropper? Do you
know what we do with such nasty things? We yank off their ears
and…”

“Please!” Andrew commanded. “Let him go. He’s
my friend.”

“Fine!” Flicker let go of Freddie. “I shall
spare you. But don’t ever eavesdrop again!”

“I…I…won’t,” Freddie faltered, slowly picking
himself up, and dusting feathers off his clothes.

“Now,” Flicker breathed. “Where was I? Oh
yes. I was telling you where those who left have gone. He pointed
to the sky. “They’ve flown north. Those who did not have their
wings, plucked, or clipped.”

Andrew looked confused. “I thought birds fly
south.”

“They do. But the times have changed. Soon
the North will be the warmest spot on earth. Us of Flicker cannot
survive without warmth.”

“Why will the north be the warmest?”

Flicker pointed to the sun. “The Fallen
offered those who did not fight a place among his house, as he will
soon be the only source of light and warmth to this entire
earth.”

“How did you escape this fate?”

Flicker smiled faintly. “Because I would
rather die than betray my people. Those traitors who sold
themselves to The Fallen they will be but mere bats, night
creatures, black outlines of what they once were. No, I could not
follow them, though my instinct told me that birds must all fly
together. When I knew I could no longer fly, I hid, though it was
very coward-like of me.”

“You don’t look like a coward to me,” Andrew
said.

“Looks can be deceiving,” Flicker
murmured.

“Come,” Andrew said, walking towards Ivory,
Talic and Croffin. “Meet my friends. They would be glad to know
you. I don’t think any of them has seen a bird quite like you.”

Flicker stood on the doorstep, unsure. He
looked back through the door of his cottage, then back to Andrew’s
friends. “I don’t know if I can.” His voice was ridden with terror
and anguish.

“What do you mean?” Andrew asked.

“I mean,” Flicker shouted, “that I’m too
afraid to step out into the darkness. I have been hiding in my
house for almost two weeks. The starlit sky looks at me and laughs.
It's as if it tells me I cannot fly anymore. No, I must go back
inside. I cannot go any further. I will not. I cannot force myself
to see the devastation of my city.”

“You must come with us,” Andrew urged him.
“You can’t stay here, alone.”

Flicker shook his head. “No. It’s too much. I
will stay where I have hidden, for the rest of my life. I cannot
bear to see the city so.”

“Please,” Andrew prodded. “Come with us!”

“Yes,” Freddie urged the bird as well. “You
need not stay here alone.”

“Don’t be afraid,” Ivory said, stepping near
Flicker, with Talic and Croffin trailing carefully behind her.
“Don’t be afraid. We are all friends now. I am Ivory. This is
Talic, and Croffin. And that is Freddie. We won’t hurt you.”

“I’m not afraid of any of you,” Flicker
scoffed. “I’m afraid of what I might see if I step out into the
streets, afraid of flying, afraid of it all.”

“Those are a lot of things to be frightened
of,” Ivory agreed. “But what’s the use of you having feathers if
you don’t use them to fly?”

At those last words, Flicker flinched and
scowled. He ever so slowly took a careful step away from his
doorstep. His eyes flickered and glowed as he looked up at the
starlit sky.

“Good,” Andrew encouraged him. “Keep
coming.”

Flicker took a halting step into the fresh
night air, where Oragino and Starfire stood watching quietly. In
the open air, Flicker stretched out his wings and fluffed himself
up, doubling in size.

“Ah, I forgot how cramped I was inside that
shack. Oh, it feels so good to stretch my wings!” A great smile
crossed his face. He stared at Andrew and his friends, with wide
eyes, turning a full circle, with his long, brown, feathery tail
scraping against the ground. Then, in one quick flowing movement he
ran out into the open street and spread his wings, and took off
through the air, soaring over the city, his voice crying out woeful
lamentations.

Andrew and his friends watched from the
ground as Flicker dipped and soared over the city, his lantern-like
eyes flickering above them in the darkness like burning stars.