Chapter 5: Serving Shark to Prove One’s Mettle

The skittish birdman gaped, but just as it began singing and dancing on the spot, the creature snapped its beak shut. Its eyes flit to nearly every surface in the room as if expecting portals to appear followed by its shrieking cousins. Shaking its head, the skittish birdman pounded its chest with a clenched talon before gesturing to its home.

“What?” I sat in a wide-eyed daze. I might as well have been struck. “I am offering you the passport you’ve been waiting for your whole life!”

The skittish birdman uttered a soothing note, eased me farther back into the armchair, and fluffed the cushions. The creature bolted to the kitchen and reached for the cupboards.

I frowned at the creature's departing form. What is this creature thinking? It should be jumping for joy at the thought of leaving this wasteland! No, wait. How could I forget? It leaped for joy at the sight of me! "I know you wish for nothing but to accompany me, but the journey has even come close to claiming me several times. I’ve been on many excursions, you know. You, on the other hand, have remained cooped up in this cozy palace for so long.” I closed my eyes and leaned back in the armchair with the back of my hand pressed to my forehead. “I dare not think what foul fate might befall you on the long, lonely roads I frequent. Better that I should go on risking my life. I pray we meet again in some other life—"

The skittish birdman glared and clacked its talon on the hardwood until I stopped. Then, without warning, it trilled a long twitter. Strands of violet light shot from its glowing eyes, twined around the cupboards’ bone handles, and swung them open. A massive ceramic plate flew at top speed before halting soundlessly upon the granite countertop. The seashells that encircled the rims of the following tableware contained dense knots of these threads. A salmon shark was hoisted from the iron hook it hung from by a cord that quivered along with the skittish birdman, but the creature remained standing.

I sat on the edge of the armchair. I know I'm the first human this birdman has met in person, but how much fish does it think I can stomach? Leaping from my seat, I ducked as the salmon shark soared over my head to insert itself snugly within the pile of tableware on the counter. I stiffened once I remembered the ceiling was only about five feet high, but I didn’t smack my head this time.

The skittish birdman whistled with each step I took. Each whistle raised the bricks above my head so the ceiling stood a foot higher.

“I knew I’d find you here. I knew it the second I read about your kind in records others left to rot.” I barely had the awareness to catch myself as I stumbled. I took in everything the skittish birdman did only to gag and clamp my hands over my eyes when slits slid down the salmon shark’s stomach. However, unable to restrain my curiosity, I peeked between my fingers.

As the skittish birdman whistled a jovial tune, pulsating organs seeped from the salmon shark’s bone-white stomach and arced through the air as if an invisible hand had swung them. They splatted onto the countertop, and as soon as the sparking threads whipped back to pierce the salmon shark again, the organs gradually went still.

I gripped my side, but there was no slit. So, it can clean a fish in under five seconds? How useful. Let's hope its appetite for seafood never changes. I pushed this thought aside for when I encountered the creature’s less sociable cousins. “I knew even when those University sods laughed and insisted everything that might have been worth studying here has been worn to dust under an eternal blizzard.” I fell back into the armchair. Gazing at the ceiling, I soaked in the warmth that radiated from the quartz fireplace, the armchair that smothered me in smooth leather, and the ivory bricks that reached far in all directions. If only they dared to come and see all of this themselves. No, part of the joy will come from bringing this to them on a silver platter. I was about to help the skittish birdman pack for our flight home when it hopped back to my side and set a ceramic plate with the decapitated salmon shark’s head on my lap. I suppressed the gagging sound that nearly leaped from my throat when the salmon shark’s head pressed me into the armchair. Its glassy eyes stared up at me along with the birdman’s gleaming ones.

The latter fidgeted with the hem of its hood while its gaze snapped from the untouched salmon shark to me.

"All right, the marble egg’s abilities may be beyond your understanding”—yes, I was still peeved the creature held its cards to its chest regarding the egg—“but I suppose your magic tricks could come in handy on my long, lonely journey." After sawing off a sliver of the frozen salmon shark with a knife whittled from bone, the only utensil my host had provided, I forced it down my throat with a shudder. I thanked the skittish birdman for the meal and set it on the coffee table. “Now, when did you first hear about me?”

The skittish birdman stopped trying to shove the magically-prepared meal back onto my lap while simultaneously trembling with anticipation over my verdict. The creature cocked its head to the side in confusion.

“I realize this is a wasteland where nobody even knows what a radio is, but who hasn’t heard of Alice Webb and her theories about ‘mystical’ birdmen? Believe me, I’m literally the only one who believes you lot exist.” I leaned incrementally closer to the skittish birdman; my grin growing wider with each word I spoke. “But you’ve finally gotten sick of being called imaginary, right? You’re just itching to prove everyone back at the University wrong, aren’t you?”

The skittish birdman stopped staring expectantly at my untouched fish once it realized I was serious about our first encounter being fated. The creature hummed to itself while glancing at the ceiling. After several minutes, it shook its head.

“But why else would you have deigned to approach me specifically? Why else would you have guided me to your sacred dwelling?” Oh, who cares if this creature was waiting to guide any old human who happened to be stumbling by? I mean, I'm settling on any old birdman, right? This poor creature would have a right to feel betrayed if it knew, but I have no excuse. The Headmistress told me I was special too, but how did I repay her expectations? Well, at least she taught me that the University doesn’t pay for crazy stories. If I had learned, maybe I'd still be there. “Surely you’ve at least heard of the University. It’s only the last archive of human achievement in existence, and, whether you live in a wasteland or not, that is worth knowing. So I suppose the fact that you don’t consciously recognize me makes this encounter all the more fated. You knew I’d be interested in all this magic business”—I gestured vaguely around myself at the palace in general—“and you were right! Your days shivering atop this mountainous island of ice are over. I assure you, it’d be my pleasure to invite you aboard my airship this very second, but first, we must document something to prove your authenticity.” I snapped open my folding camera and held it to my face: scanning the skittish birdman’s home. “Something to prove you’re actually a birdman, I mean. Wouldn’t want those University sods mistaking you for some other creature they’ve already got in their records, would we?”

The skittish birdman scuttled from the camera’s view, but it still observed the device from afar.

I let the camera slip from my fingers.

Forgetting about remaining far from what might as well have been a weapon for all this creature knew, it dove to catch the camera.

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"What do you think you're doing?"

The skittish birdman pulled up short when I spoke, and the camera clattered on the hardwood.

"Why should you ever stoop to grab anything? Have you forgotten how to use your magic?"

Just as I suspected, when the birdman whistled and stared intently at the camera, violet sparks bounced off its iron frame. The creature yelped when the threads of light recoiled from the camera before being pulled back into its eyes. The creature shook its head and yanked its hood over its face.

The metal camera sat motionless. If it had been lined with leather or some other fashionable animal hide, perhaps I would’ve had to jump to catch it before it flew over my head.

"Never mind. A photograph wouldn't be enough anyway. The University will expect more tangible proof.” Perhaps the creature couldn't manipulate metal because of its amateurish understanding of the substance. The stuff must be difficult to mine when digging a foot underground could break one's back. I snatched the camera, snapped open the back to remove the film which I then tucked into my innermost coat, and offered the device to the skittish birdman.

The creature stared at the hardwood: unable to look me in the eye. When it finally met my gaze, it goggled at the camera.

“It's just something to practice with. The University will be looking for every way to prove us wrong. They'll insist you’re a clever replica or some such nonsense if you can't even lift a pin."

The skittish birdman pointed from the camera to the threads that writhed within its eyes and shook its head. The creature’s insistence that it didn't need to improve was dampened by how it stared at the camera as if it were the only thing in the room. It reached for and pulled back from the camera several times before lifting it from my hand. The creature clutched the device to its chest.

“Can’t expect those sods to recognize a birdman even if it’s standing in front of them.” I carried on as if the skittish birdman wasn't crooning over a camera. “Think carefully now. This is your future in the Empire we’re talking about. Show them what they want, and your name will be in lights. Everyone will be talking about ‘the skittish birdman.’ Oh, but that’s not what you’re called, is it? Well, since you haven’t introduced yourself properly, I’ll call you… Ludger. Rather fitting, isn’t it?” I ignored Ludger’s deep grumble and the “so-so” gesture it made with a wing. My attention had already snapped back to proving its genetic identity as a birdman to the University. “Oh wait, I know. There’s nothing you lot are more famous for than your trademark magic, right? Or, I should say, your electrical engineering.” I winked conspiratorially at Ludger but flinched when it sprang into action at the mention of the Empire.

With a whistle toward the fireplace, the stones in the hearth rolled over and extinguished the flames. In the faint light that still emanated from the clattering pile of tableware, shivering with pent-up “violet electricity,” Ludger’s hunched silhouette hesitated before whipping off its robe. The creature swept the pile into the garment and tied the corners. Squeaking under the weight as it swung this knapsack onto its back, Ludger ushered me toward a wall that was mostly cleared of its hangings. The creature took a deep breath and threads of light seeped from its eyes in tune with its whistling before they bifurcated: one stream suspended the ceiling while the other coiled into a circular framework within the wood-paneled wall. The creature’s hunched form twitched, and the interweaving threads tensed as the doorway grew taller to match my height. The ring of violet light snapped back to its original size, and Ludger hung its head.

"Admirable to try and fix your home for the average-sized person, but let's focus on leaving unseen. Wouldn't want anyone getting jealous seeing you whisked off to a fabulous wonderland, eh?"

The threads sparked and pushed back the surrounding bricks. Once the ripples that covered the filmy surface within the framework stilled, I staggered backward.

The seahorse entrance to the misty hallway stood beyond our portal. Clicking talons echoed as birdmen darted up and down the hallway while whistling portals into existence and peering inside.

I held a finger to my lips, and Ludger and I held our breaths as we slid through the portal. We froze when a chain link of sparks sizzled from within Ludger’s home and stared over our shoulders into the oak-paneled room.

A new portal flared in the far wall, and a broad mass coated in short-furred hide lumbered through.

I stiffened at the thought that it was a walrus or some other arctic beast preparing to charge until long wings set upon wide shoulders dragged the beast across Ludger’s home in a single stride.

The head within the walrus-hide robe rose. Deep inside a hood affixed with a pair of tusks on either side, a pair of burning eyes glared.

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