“We’ve found the source of the river,” whispered the book.
Jutting from the wall of plant life, the square cistern was just visible. Among the hanging vines dangled its chain.
“Go on then Diss, Bling,” Hemi whispered.
“Just in case,” Deeba added. “Might not need you. But if you hear your names…” The utterlings nodded. They knew what to do.
They crept into the foliage on opposite sides of the tiny room and began to climb, Bling with its hooked claws, Diss with its six little paws. They stayed as hidden as possible under the leaves.
Deeba, Hemi, Cauldron, and Cavea stepped forward and stood in front of the forest toilet. Cavea hefted the book and sang, and hidden in the branches, scores of birds answered in harsher voices.
“He’s calling the keyfeather-bearer,” the book whispered. “Really giving it some flowery stuff. ‘You most honored bird of paradise, of whom it is written in the book,’ et cetera. The other birds are laughing.”
Cavea seemed to be having some sort of argument. His human body cupped its hands to either side of the cage, like a man shouting, and the bird sang loud. Its unseen cousins answered.
“And they look so sweet…” said the book in a shocked tone.
The avian bickering went on, and Cavea grew more and more agitated, until all of a sudden, scores of birds dropped out of the leaf-cover and surrounded them, perching on ledges and branches.
They were parrots, cockatiels, macaws, and cockatoos, ruffling their feathers and calling raucously from nasty-looking beaks. They all spoke at once in ugly voices, and Deeba had to put her hands over her ears.
“They’re telling Cavea to show proper respect in the Claviger’s court,” she could just hear the book say.
“Um, Cavea?” said Hemi, and pointed up.
A bird was perched on the rim of the toilet tank, watching them. It was a parrot, and it was huge. It cawed once, gratingly.
It was absolutely beautiful, a vivid patchwork of reds, blues, and yellows. As it shuffled on its feet and eyed the travelers, several of its smaller companions swept around it in a quick aerobatic dance.
“So where’s the…” Deeba started to ask. As she spoke, several of the birds raised crests on their necks and heads. Vivid colors swung upwards into temporary tiaras, in the center of each of which was a large, bright feather shaped like a key.
The one adorning the big parrot was huge.
“Never mind,” Deeba whispered.
64. Alpha Male
Claviger’s head-feather smoothed down again, and was invisible in his plumage. Deeba stepped forward.
“Don’t bother,” the book said. “He doesn’t speak any Human.”
“Cavea, could you translate?” Deeba said. The caged bird nodded. “Parakeetus Claviger, I presume,” Deeba said, and waited for Cavea to whistle. “Pleased to meet you. Sorry to crash round yours like this. I’m sure you know about the Smog, Mr. Claviger. I want to ask if you’ll help us fight it.”
The parrot cawed, and Mr. Cavea whistled.
“He says no,” the book said.
“Who does?” said Deeba.
“Parakeetus Claviger.”
“But…why did you wait for Cavea to say it? Do you understand Bird or not?”
“Yes. But Claviger has a strong parrot accent I can’t make out.”
Deeba rolled her eyes.
“And…he says no? Claviger?”
The parrot called again, and Cavea twittered.
“Yes, he says no. He says he knows what you’re going to ask for, and we can’t have it. He says we should be ashamed of ourselves, wanting to take his crest. The males all use them to show off, and when they’re being aggressive. He says without it he won’t be a hit with the ladies. He says, uh…that the chicks dig his threads. Don’t look at me like that, Deeba, that’s what he says.”
Deeba had been feeling guilty about having to take Parakeetus Claviger’s feather. Now she felt considerably less so.
“He says that? Aggressive? Well…” She paused. She saw climbing motions in the foliage on the water tank, and looked quickly away. “We don’t want Mr. Claviger’s headgear. Is he stupid? What sort of idiots does he think we are?”
Cavea twittered.
“What?” said Hemi.
“What are you doing?” said the book.
“Why you getting angry?” said Hemi.
“Shut up,” whispered Deeba. Then, more loudly, she said, “Maybe we aren’t the idiots.”
Cavea hesitated and translated.
All the birds were squawking angrily. Claviger jumped up and down in outrage, and screeched.
Deeba didn’t wait for Cavea to translate. “Easy to say things like that from up there,” she said. “Who wants your minging[13] feathers anyway?”
“Oh, I get it,” murmured Hemi.
Claviger must have understood from the tone of her voice. He screeched, and leapt down from the top of the tank to swing from the toilet chain, close to Deeba’s face— and below the cistern.
“Up yours,” Deeba said, and jerked her hand in a rude motion. Outraged, Parakeetus Claviger ruffled his feathers into a fight-posture. The featherkey stood up on his head.
“Alright,” Deeba said loudly. “I admit it. I’m sorry I had to diss you, but actually I do want your bling.”
The utterlings hidden in the leaves heard themselves spoken, and they burst out. They dropped on vines and flung themselves at Claviger’s head.
The birds of Claviger’s court filled the air, screaming in rage, raising their own featherkeys. Before Parakeetus Claviger could fly, Diss, the six-legged bear, grabbed him and clung on. With the sudden extra weight, the two bodies pulled the chain.
Even as they descended, Diss was pulling out the featherkey still raised on the bird’s head. Parakeetus Claviger’s cry turned into one of pain as the utterling yanked his plume.
Claviger was beating his big wings as the chain jerked at its full length, and the toilet started to flush. Diss lost its grip.
Hemi, Deeba, and Cauldron couldn’t reach the tumbling bear through the barrage of enraged birds. As Deeba raised her hands to defend herself from beaks and claws, she saw Bling the locust reaching with its foreleg for Diss. The two utterlings clung to each other for a moment, but Diss couldn’t hold on, and plummeted into the bubbling bowl, leaving the featherkey in Bling’s grip.
Deeba’s cry of triumph turned immediately into one of concern. She reached to plunge her hand after Diss, but the toilet was swirling madly, the water foaming, the level suddenly rising. The toilet overflowed violently, and the little brook that bubbled from it gushed and became a river.
“Where’s Diss? Where’s Diss?” Deeba shouted, but the little utterling was gone, lost in the clear water.
Parakeetus Claviger and several of his followers were dive-bombing Bling, and Deeba grabbed the terrified utterling and the featherkey.
She tried to fight her way through the increasing current. The water took her feet from under her and sent her sprawling.
“Come on!” shouted the book. Cavea’s human hands swatted birds. “We can’t help the utterling. We have to go!”
“Ow!” Deeba crawled out of the water. A fish with a vicious jutting jaw was attached to her leg, biting her even through her trousers. The explorers got out of the toilet, shielding themselves from parakeet attack and trying to stay out of the water.
They stumbled along the side of the new rising river, which tore down the corridor and to the stairs.