The Fray of Werebirds [Discontinued]

Chapter 30 - Arrival

On the fourth night, Millicent announced that we had arrived.

Brock scanned the area skeptically. "Are you sure?"

It was a few hours past midnight, and, as far as we could see in the dark, there was practically nothing around us but identical mountains. We had landed on top of one of those mountains and now Millicent stood with her hands on her hips, gazing intently at the sky.

"We still haven't entered the flock, but we're almost there," she said.

"Then what are we waiting for?" I asked.

"Be patient."

For the next fifteen minutes or so, we waited. I was patient, mostly, but towards the end, I started bouncing on the balls of my feet and conjuring up the worst possible outcomes of what was about to happen or what we were about to find.

"Come on," I whined, "We're losing precious time! What the hell are we even doing?"

Millicent didn't take her eyes of the sky. In fact, I doubted she even blinked throughout the last several minutes. She mumbled, "It's almost here. Get ready to fly you two."

Brock and I exchanged confused glances, but we switched into our feathery form anyway.

"The gate opens once every three hours for approximately ten seconds," Millicent said rapidly before transforming, as if that explained anything. It only served to baffle us further.

What gate? I wondered as I squinted at the sky, directly at the spot Millicent was so focused on.

It was a typical night sky at first. And then the clouds parted, leaving behind a lone cloud. It was an odd cloud. It wasn't round or ill-formed like most clouds were. It was the shape of a vertical rectangle. Not only that, it was growing in size. Soon, the center of the cloud melted away, leaving an inky gap the shape of a keyhole.

Now! Millicent commanded. Fly through the hole!

The three of us shot upwards. Millicent bolted through the cloud. She didn't appear on the other side, though. She simply vanished into thin air as soon as she entered the keyhole. Then Brock, too, was swallowed by the cloud's gaping mouth.

When it was my turn, I feared, for a moment, that I might be sucked into a whole new universe never to return.

But wasn't I already in living in the heart of a fantasy, ever since that piano performance? Was I really ready to take one more step deeper into this world, which was so far from reality?

The cloud hovering before me was terrifying and unexplainable, just like my brand new ability to fly. Just like all the werebirds I had met throughout the past several weeks. Just like the wild tale that had been building up ever since I was dragged into this adventure.

There were so many reasons for me not to enter the cloud. But there was one reason that outweighed them all: somewhere beyond that mysterious keyhole, Sirena was waiting for me.

I wasn't about to let her down.

Me 1: So, Caleb, are you going to enter that gate or not?

Me 2: You bet.

I took a deep breath and plunged beak-first into the cloud's pitch-black stomach.

It felt like riding a possessed elevator.

I wasn't sure whether the void beyond the keyhole was taking me up or down, but either way it was horrifyingly fast. I couldn't see a thing. I could only feel my body being sucked unwillingly through a narrow tunnel with many twists and turns.

My first and only thought: Maybe this is how milkshakes feel when they're being slurped through a swirly straw.

Finally, I was tossed out of the darkness. I sent my wings to work immediately and managed to catch myself before I fell. At first, I was dizzy and nauseous, but both of those feelings fled as soon as I saw the view displayed before me.

Whenever the flock was mentioned, I imagined a bunch of birds huddled together in a cave or discussing plans in a secret headquarters underground. I was wrong. No, I was more than wrong. The flock was more than that.

It was a magical city – a missing district hidden among the skies.

Islands were levitating in midair. It was almost as if some giant had plucked out a few chunks of earth and placed them on top of invisible pillars for support. But there were no pillars. I checked, once, twice. I glanced at the empty space below each island. No colossal columns. I looked upwards, too. They weren't hanging by gigantic ropes either.

They were levitating all on their own. I wasn't sure if I could call them islands anymore; there was no water surrounding them, just a little fog and pure air.

The largest island of all hovered proudly in the center of the flock, while all the other younger lands were scattered around it.

The little islands were fascinating, sure. Some of them even had water trickling down and pouring onto the little islands below it, which gradually increased in size, as if they were stairs linked by steps of liquid. Other little islands had short buildings made of stone. So they were cool, but it was the lead island that fascinated me the most.

It seemed as if neighborhoods grew on its trees instead of fruit.

Trees large enough to carry several cottages on each branch were clutching the island's soil firmly with their stubborn, entwined roots. They stood out like veins – the roots, I mean – providing the whole piece of land an air of eminence. And the higher the buildings went on each tree the fancier they seemed. One tree even held a pearly white palace peppered with red flags.

Best of all, although it was nighttime, everything was glittering.

Millions of tiny bright objects drifted around lazily like stray stars – fireflies? I had no idea what they were. They might as well have been the very sun's droppings. Whatever they were, they were beautiful. They lit up the sky and dyed it blue.

Not just any night blue, but a unique, flawless shade of navy blue.

Me 1: This is...

Me 2: Incredible?

Me 1: Stunning?

Me 2: Astounding?

Me 1: Spectacular?

Me 2: Phenomenal?

Me 1: I'm out of vocabulary.

Indeed, we had arrived.