Raymond glanced back toward Calliope, pacing and coiled like a beast caged, and Shrike standing resolutely beside her. They were what passed for family in wild places, and his ache to join them in combat bowed only to his desire not to see them endangered again.

He should have been at their side and not Isra's.

All the same, he did not move to join them.

"Isra," the red stallion murmured coolly, deferring in this moment to the horse that seemed most capable of averting another bloodbath, "we don't have a lot of time." Whether the birds before them or the lioness at their backs posed a greater threat to the uneasy truce, he did not know. He knew whose side he was on and had no patience for the reckless pageantry unfolding before him, but their magnanimous deity had prepared this perilous test for them all and committed them to it at the cost of their own mortal lives.

And now those lives balanced on the knife-edge of a bard queen's tale-telling.

If Calliope's restraint didn't fail first, his just might - but he wasn't sure he'd be aiming for the birds.

The sky grows lighter as the sun appears on the horizon, a faint glow turning the mountains pink. The stars begin to fade, and with them, so too do the thunderbirds begin to disperse.

One by one, the beasts left in the air turn the wings and disappear to the west, the air growing strangely quiet and still with the absence of a hundred beating wings. The sky clears, leaving only the beasts on the ground behind.

At the closing of Isra’s story, the remaining thunderbirds stir, as if awaking from a deep sleep. They look around, contemplating their surroundings, studying the equines with curiosity in their eyes. Not for the first time, Caligo sees the Court reflected in them - names spring to her mind and it seems they have two Isra’s on the shore rather than one. Two Isra’s, two Acton’s, two Katniss’, and so on.

A thunderbird shakes its head, feathers ruffling. With a sweep of its wings and a clack of its jaws, it lifts into the air. Around it flies, and around, and around, circling overhead in a way that is far too vulture-like for the demigoddess’ liking.

But then it, too, turns its wing and disappears into the lightening sky.

One of the remaining thunderbirds creeps closer to the equines, studying them carefully. For a minute the demigoddess hardly dares to breathe, forgetting herself as she stares into the bird’s yellow eyes. Finally it drops its head into something that might almost appear a bow. It exhales deeply, the air warm as it washes over the group. Then one after the other, the remaining company follows suit, flying away from the rising sun.

For a minute, no one speaks.

“I think we’re safe now,” Caligo finally breaks the silence, her voice a mere whisper.

Caligo rises to her feet slowly, feeling her limbs stretch and creak. After crouching for so long on the ground, tense and unmoving, her body protested the sudden movement. It reminded her a little of coming alive from her statue, so many months ago now.

She sighs, looking around the lake. From where the Night Queen and her Court sat huddled, to where Calliope and Shrike stood defiantly.

“Thank you for the story, Isra,” she tells the Sovereign, uncaring as to whether Calliope or Shrike or Raymond heard, nor what they thought if they did. “You have a true gift.”



And it seemed then that the demigoddess was referring not only to the story telling, but perhaps something else entirely as well.

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Very last round! The RE will post one last time on December 20th; you have until midnight on the 19th to reply!

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